A Life of Lies
by kamahpfan
Summary: Post OotP! Severitus Challange. Snape is sent to the Dursley's in disguise and makes a very unpleasent discovery. Rated for some language, Future Violence and Abuse.
1. The Mission

This started out as a fifth year story, but I've recently gone through it and made it reasonably compatible with OotP. The story line hasn't changed at all, as only a few phrases and situations needed altering, so I hope you are all satisfied with the changes.

To those of you only _just_ starting this story: Ignore the above ;)

* This is a Severtius Fic for the main part. It is also a Super Powered Harry Fic, with some descriptions of abuse and medium violence. H/H Shipping is most likely, though still undecided in the long run. Rating may change to R in the future.

********

Chapter One: The Mission

Severus Snape was slouched over his desk, squinting in the dim light of his office while grading essays that were barely worthy of the parchment they were written on. Frowning in disgust, he scribbled down a degrading comment on the paper he was assessing, before sighing heavily and leaning back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck in an effort to get rid of the kink that had risen due to his leaning over for so long.

Term had finished just under a month ago, but it felt an eternity for Severus; relishing the two months he had every year that wasn't disrupted by snivelling students, or some of his more irritating colleagues.

Turning back to the stack of parchment, Severus scowled as his eyes flicked to the name that adorned the top of the page.

Harry Potter.

"Probably got every blasted question wrong," he remarked spitefully, pulling the paper to the front of the desk and beginning to peruse it, without much care.

Severus's mood only grew worse as he slowly made his way through the potions essay, noting down every fault or blemish harshly.

Yes. Dumbledore's dear old Golden Boy. Nothing special about him at all, Severus thought bitterly. Probably sitting around on his high and mighty backside, lapping up the praise and idolisation he gets at that Muggle home of his.

With a satisfied smirk, Severus placed his quill down after giving the wretched Golden Boy a much deserved D, written in his favourite red ink. It was a bit of a shame really. Potter did possess a rather natural gift for potions, yet he always seems to screw them up because he's too busy whispering to those idiotic friends of his, planning some semblance of mischief to make his life harder.

Sighing heavily, Severus placed the essay on the 'Done' pile and massaged the bridge of his nose, hating the way it appeared hooked after being broken so many times over the years.

A sharp tap at his office door snapped Severus from his brief break, instantly making him irate from the disturbance.

"Come in," he growled, frowning deeply and looking back at his essays before the door even opened.

"Ah, Severus," the headmasters voice floated towards him in the musty room. "Hard at work, as always."

"Is there something you wanted, Albus?" Severus scowled, finally looking up at the old man, hating how he sounded exceptionally jovial all the time. "I am trying to enjoy what's left of my vacation, where snivelling little children aren't running rampant, and disturbing my peace and quiet."

Dumbledore chuckled as he stepped into Severus's office, shutting the door behind him. "Well, let no one tell you that you're not diligent, Severus," he commented, trying vainly to hide his blatantly obvious grin. "You always did throw yourself into your work, and still do, my boy."

"Well then, Albus, I'd hate to take up your precious spare time," Severus commented lightly, trying his hardest to keep the scowl on his face in spite of Albus's cheerful grin. "And as you can see, I am quite busy…"

"Oh for heavens sake Severus – take a load off and relax for a few minutes!" was the headmaster's rather sharp retort, though the buoyancy in the way it was spoken completely ruined the effect. Albus's tone and face softened even more considerably as he continued his previous train of speech. "You're working all the time, Severus. It's about time you had a small break from the school, and got to know about the life of a particular group of Muggles — "

"Stop!" Severus commanded curtly, pausing as he replayed Albus's words in his head again, before turning to the old man, scowling deeply. "You don't honestly believe that I would have fallen for a trap like that, do you Albus? Pretending to offer me a holiday, just so I could do some discreet spying for you. Don't play me for a fool, Albus. I wasn't born yesterday."

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head, letting the cheeriness fade considerably before gazing back into Severus's onyx eyes. "I can see that you're not to be easily dissuaded this morning, Severus. Very well, to the point. Yes, I do want you to go to a Muggle household and be a nice, polite observer for a few days. Naturally you would have to be in disguise, but if you feel the need to reveal your true identity at any point to anyone in the house, you're quite free to do so, but you must be cautious. For the sole reason of harmony though, I'd advise against revealing yourself unless it was an emergency."

Severus quirked an eyebrow, noting how Albus seemed quite serious about this subject, and that he'd been saying things as though they'd already been arranged and put in motion, before he'd even known of the assignment. Voicing his last thoughts, Severus felt his stomach drop when the headmaster confirmed it.

"Yes Severus, it's all taken care of already," said Albus firmly, leaving almost no place for arguments. "They will be expecting you around midday tomorrow."

Heaving a mental sigh, Severus nodded reluctantly, until another thought crossed his mind. "What exactly is my cover story for being an unexpected visitor in a strangers home, Albus? It's not like I'm capable of a Muggle occupation or anything."

"Ahh, yes," Albus muttered, nodding with confirmation. "Well, Severus, the mission I have for you is to think and act like a Muggle exchange student might. This family has assured me that they have a spare bedroom you can use …"

"So you've spoken to them, then?" Severus cut in; a tad irked that he had to be in disguise after whomever he'd been cursed with had seen the Headmaster, dressed in all his wizarding glory.

Albus paused for a moment, before nodding in assent. "Yes, Severus. I have spoken to them, but not face to face as you might think. No, it was all arranged by the … err 'telephone?' … Yes, I do believe that's what it's called. No, this family thinks your visit was some kind of random draw that they happened to get chosen for. And before you ask, yes, they are aware of magic, but they have no idea that you're a wizard, and it shall be kept that way."

Severus scowled, trying to think up any means possible to get out of what Dumbledore had obviously planned for him for some time. Why did it have to be him? Couldn't Albus see that he had a huge pile of work to finish? What ever happened to the other Professors that stayed at Hogwarts during the summer break? Even someone from the Order could do it!

"Is there a particular reason you want me to observe this particular group of muggles, Albus?" he asked instead, finally resigning himself to the fact that he would be leaving soon.

Albus nodded slowly, and Snape spotted, with his well trained eye, that Dumbledore had grown even graver, at his query.

"Yes, Severus, there is a reason …… but I'm afraid I cannot give you all the information you wish." Seeing the potion master's furrowed brow, Dumbledore relented only a snippet of information. "I've received some disconcerting information, about someone we all know, and I want you to make sure that these suspicions are not true …… even in the slightest degree."

Curiosity began to override his irritability, and Severus began to wonder what situation could cause the headmaster such worry. And what was that about someone being someone they all knew? Shaking his head, Severus let out an audible sigh before reluctantly nodding his head, in acceptance of his assignment. 'Great …" Severus muttered, rubbing his head as he felt a migraine coming on. If there was anything he hated more, it was pretending to be a Muggle. Their way of doing things was so different and foreign to what he was used to … plus the fact that he couldn't use any noticeable magic while he was with them. Everything had to be done the hard way.

"Don't look so down about it, Severus," Albus chided, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "Think of it as a learning experience. Now, you only need to stay for as long as you see fit, so long as you make sure everything in this particular house is as it should be. No adverse behaviour from all parties, and such. Understood?"

Sighing again, Severus nodded and started to sort out the essays sitting on his desk, so they'd be ready for him when he returned, which hopefully would be sooner rather than later.

"Understood, Albus," he answered, giving one final glare at Harry Potter's written piece, before placing it roughly with the other marked works.

Dumbledore watched Severus silently, from his position near the portrait hole, looking relieved that he'd taken the small job. "Remember, Severus … they think you are there to observe a normal British household for a few days. They aren't to believe otherwise. A portkey will be ready to take you there at midday tomorrow." With that, the headmaster turned and pushed open the portrait, shooting over his shoulder, "And do try to keep an open mind, Severus…" as he shut the door behind him.

Severus scowled even deeper, as he turned and headed for his quarters, wanting to get this ridiculous mission over and done with.

*

"Where in the bloody hell could he have put the blasted thing?"

Snape was irate to say the least; walking around the forested area Albus had directed him to, in order to find the portkey to take him to this mysterious Muggle home. He'd been packed since the night before, and was currently decked out in a pair of black denim jeans, a black button down shirt with a green tie, black shoes, and a small trunk with some of his belongings and extra clothing. What was most startling about the potions master though, was not his Muggle attire at all. More over, it was the state of his hair and face that would afflict most of his students speechless.

Severus Snape no longer looked like Severus Snape. His shoulder length, greasy black hair, had been replaced by a neat mop of sandy brown hair, looking old enough that it was slightly grown out. It was a short style, yet the front was still long enough to keep the small bangs falling into his vision. Not only was it short, and a different colour …… but also it was CLEAN!

To complete the disguise, Severus had hidden the real shape of his nose using a rather handy illusion charm, and made his eyes a pale cerulean blue, while softening the hard edges of his jaw line and cheekbones.

"I'm going to regret taking this mission…" Snape muttered ominously, just as he found the portkey and summoned it to him, catching it as it reached the activation time, sending Snape off with his trunk for a whirlwind ride. The portkey met its destination, making Severus stumble and fall over. Grumbling heatedly to himself, he got to his feet and looked around for a sign, telling him of his location at the very least.

He pushed the pair of fake oval glasses up the bridge of his nose, as he surveyed something resembling a quite, peaceful suburb, screaming out normalcy from all walks of existence. The houses along the quiet street all seemed near on identical, and Severus also noted that most of them seemed to own the same model of vehicle. Scowling at how Albus had left him hanging, without any knowledge of his destination, he picked up his trunk and strolled aimlessly down the street, trying to spot anything that would tell him where he was required to be.

As Severus reached the curb, he looked up at the street sign …… and immediately felt a hot rush of fury and disbelieve wash over him. He was currently standing on Privet Drive. The street the Golden Boy, Harry Potter resided.

"Are you trying to send me to an early grave, Albus?" Severus groaned, questioning why he, of all people, would be sent here, but also why he had to be sent here in the first place? Albus's instructions were quite precise in discovering if anything at the household was amiss, but he had no idea what type of behaviour would be considered strange for them. And what where the suspicions the headmaster harboured towards this place? He'd said that he'd received information about it, and so thought to sent him along to check it out.

Shaking his head and scowling, Severus put even more effort into getting to Number Four. The quicker he got there, the quicker he could leave, for he was sure that there would be nothing to be concerned about once he arrived.

Finally, Snape came to a small letterbox with a brass 'Four' screwed to the front. Looking up at the house, he felt his eyebrows draw together at how … plain it looked. There wasn't anything overtly fancy about it, but even he could see that this area was for those who had some spare money to burn.

Twisting his lip, Snape muttered, "How quaint…" before stepping forward onto the driveway, and approaching the front door. Dropping his bag at his feet, Snape took a moment to glance into the bushes by the door, making sure nothing was around, before raising his hand and knocking soundly.

A minute passed, and still there was no answer. Growling softly, Snape repeated the action, only with a bit more force and obvious ire. There was some shuffling from inside as someone moved around; presumably to finally get up and answer the door.

The door shifted slightly as it was opened a crack, and Snape was privy to seeing a pair of beady eyes staring at him from what seemed to be a rather fat young boy.

"Good afternoon," said Snape, deciding that being polite was the best was to make an advantageous first impression. "I'm Ashley Phillips. May I speak to your parents, please?"


	2. Missing Photo's

****

Chapter Two: Missing Photo's

The boy seemed to sneer at him, but he soon turned, keeping the door open a slither, and called out, "Dad!!!! There's a man here to see you!"

Severus heard some kind of grunt from a distance away, followed by grumbling that got progressively louder, as a rather heavy footed person approached the door. The boy stepped away, and the door was quickly reefed open, revealing a rather heavily set man with a large moustache and no neck.

"And who are you?" the man asked rather gruffly.

Severus bit back his witty retort, and instead forced out a pleasant tone.

"Good afternoon, Mr Dursley, is it? My name is Ashley Phillips. I believe you've been expecting me? You were the one's chosen to house an Observer for a week, weren't you?"

Vernon's face instantaneously changed to one of welcome and pleasantness. He shot Severus a rather arrogant smile, before nodding enthusiastically and stepping aside, letting Snape pass.

"Yes, yes. Come on in Mr Phillips, make yourself at home."

"Please, Mr Dursley. Call me Ash," said Snape, smiling forcefully as he let his gaze sweep over the foyer. It was a rather nice house, in Snape's opinion, if not a little plain. There wasn't anything extraordinary about it at all. There were large photo's lining the hallway and walls of the lounge room, all filled with the fat boy, Mr Dursley, and a rather long necked woman that bore a startling resemblance to a horse. Turning back to Vernon, Snape smiled in a manner that told anyone looking at him that he was pleased with the look and feel of the place.

"So Mr Dursley," Snape began. "If I may … where would my accommodations be located, please? I must unpack and get settled, if I'm to observe unobtrusively for the next few days what it's like in a normal British home, on a day to day basis."

Vernon looked pleased that Snape seemed to like his house, and kept the sickening smile as he quickly agreed and led him up the stairs, informing him that he could call him Vernon, and that his wife and son's names where Petunia, and Dudley.

"This will be your room, Ash," said Vernon, after leading Snape past two bedrooms, pointing to a rather small room at the end of the hall. He opened the door, revealing possibly the smallest bedroom he'd ever seen. There was barely enough room for the bed and wardrobe, let alone actually inhabiting the place for a great length of time. Snape could tell that the room had been spruced up for his stay, which made him wonder what condition it had been in before he'd come.

"Thank you, Vernon," said Snape, forcing a smile onto his face as he stepped into the room, placing his small trunk at the foot of the bed, greatly reducing the remaining floor space. "This shall be quite comfortable."

Vernon nodded shortly, looking smug at his approval.

"Petunia is in the kitchen getting lunch ready for us, so I'll just leave you to get settled. Feel free to browse around if you want? Get a feel for the place, as such, and I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes."

Snape nodded politely and Vernon left, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he did so, Snape let his face fall into a customary sneer, as he mentally called Vernon a number of degrading names. How could anyone be so obnoxious? At least he knew where Potter got it from now, thought Snape, remembering the many bouts of cheek he'd been victim to over the years, that had come from the brat.

Thinking of Potter …… where was he? He hadn't seen any sign of Golden Boy since his arrival, and this seemed strange, even though he hadn't been at this house for any more than ten minutes.

"Typical Gryffindor," Snape muttered, getting his odds and ends from the trunk and setting them out. Of course Potter wouldn't be around to greet a visitor. He is above all us lowly mortals after all, isn't he? Scowling at the cramped room, Snape soon finished unpacking and made his way back downstairs, glancing at the photo's on the walls as he ventured around the place. As Snape continued to look around, a little tingle started at the back of his mind, telling him that there was something amiss, but at that time, he couldn't figure out what it could be.

Snape stood in the doorway to the lounge room, spotting the large boy taking up the whole couch as he watched a small box in the corner with moving pictures in it. Was it Dumpy? Duffly? Snape shook his head. Stupid Muggle names. He let his eyes flit around the room, and discovered that yet again, all the walls held large photographs of the threesome …… and the tingle in the back of his mind increased to a rather loud alarm. Three. Where was Potter in all of these photos?

With this new revelation, Snape began to search with his eyes, with a bit more scrutiny, realizing that there wasn't a single thing that told of another boy living in the house. This confounded Snape to no end. Why was there no trace of The-Boy-Who-Lived? The frustrating part though, was the fact that he couldn't even ask these Muggles about it, because 'Mr Phillips' had no knowledge that another person was supposed to be living here.

"Lunch is ready, Duddykins!" a shrill voice rang out, making Snape flinch while wondering how any of the glass in the house could remain intact with such screeching. The boy heaved his massive weight from the couch, and thumped into the kitchen, not even glancing at Snape once, or acknowledging his presence.

Scowling, Snape took the hint and followed the boy into what seemed to be a dining room. The table was stacked with food, and was set for four. Vernon was already seated, as was Petunia. As he took the seat motioned to him, Snape took a quick look around the room, noting that it was the same as the other rooms, in that there was no sign of Harry Potter anywhere.

__

"I guess this is what Albus meant by 'strange circumstances' _then…?"_ thought Snape, as he took his seat at the table, feeling his stomach turn at how Dudley seemed to take up one whole side of the small table on his own. Snape sat there, quietly eating the rather delicious salad, trying futilely to determine their ulterior motives, for they most definitely had them.

By that evening, Snape was growing more than just curious. Although he was loathed to admit it, he was worried. He'd kept all of his senses alert for the rest of the afternoon and even during dinner, but Potter just didn't seem to exist here. No one spoke of him, or even hinted that another boy took up residence there, which he though distinctly odd. Weren't these people supposed to worship the very ground Potter walked on?

It wouldn't be until his last evening at the Dursley's, that Snape would find what he was looking for, and receive the shock of his life.

*

It was late afternoon, and Snape was currently up in the smallest bedroom, packing the remanence of his articles in preparation to leave after Dinner that night. Uncharacteristically, Snape seemed visibly agitated …… and he was. The mild concern that had started at the beginning of his stay, was now bordering on panic (not that Snape would actually show such an emotion). One whole week had passed, and Snape had seen neither hide nor tail of Potter. His relatives didn't even seem to notice that another member of the family had gone missing!

He sighed and shook his head, pondering on what he was going to tell Dumbledore when he got back to Hogwarts. Lost in thought, Snape missed his bag and dropped a container of hair oil onto the floor, startling him when the sound created was that of hollow wood. Bending down, Snape ran his hand over the said area, spotting that one particular plank was showing signs of ware and tear. Curious, he started to fiddle with it, surprising himself when the loose board finally gave in, and popped from the floor.

"What have we got here?" Snape mused, reaching in a hand to see what hidden items were stashed away from prying eyes. His fingers touched something unnaturally soft and feathery, feeling like water made into material. Intrigued, Snape grasped the item and drew it from the floor, feeling strange as he set obsidian eyes upon a very familiar invisibility cloak.

Potter's.

Snape felt his heartbeat hitch as he stuck his hand down the hole again, this time coming in contact with what was unmistakably a wand. Retrieving it, Snape wrapped it in the cloak carefully, and took one final feel around the hole. His fingers found softish leather. With a bit more exploring, he thought it to be some kind of book. Reflexively thinking how strange it was for Potter to have a book, Snape withdrew the object, only to have his heart leap to his throat.

It was a photo album, with Lily and James, and of course the other Marauders, Lupin, the late Black and Peter Pettigrew.

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, a thought struck Snape so forcefully that he gasped and dropped the items.

This was Potter's _room!_ If he was staying in here, then where could the boy be? As it was, this was irrefutable evidence that the other resided here, but …… why was he not in the house with everyone else?

Afterwards, while sitting at the dining table, Snape let his thoughts wander to the same topic again. Where could the boy possibly be? And another strange topic, was why the Golden Boy was living in a room barely adequate enough as a storeroom, let alone as a bedroom? It didn't make any sense …… at least, not with what Snape had always thought Potters home life would be like.

"Did you enjoy your stay, Ash?" Vernon's voice cut through his musings like a power drill, as they sat eating a mildly burnt pot roast and vegetables.

"It was a wonderful experience, Vernon," Snape answered, barely containing a drawling sneer he would have used on a first year. "I look forward to doing it again sometime."

Dessert was a Pavlova, which the large boy, Dudley, and Vernon polished off the majority of, and it was all washed down with a glass of sherry.

"Thank you for having me this week, Vernon, Petunia, Dudley…"

"Oh it was our pleasure," Petunia gushed quickly, clearly not wanting to offend anyone of even remote importance. "Do visit us sometime, will you? And I do apologise for the roast tonight, Ashley. We've already punished the cook, so it won't happen again."

The hair on the nape of Snape's neck rose at the possible insinuation.

"Cook?" he questioned, trying not to sound as interested as he was. "I wasn't aware someone else did the cooking? I thought Petunia was the talented chef?" His voice was oilier than his hair.

"Yes well, that's neither here nor there," Vernon interrupted; his voice louder than what would be considered normal. "You must have quite the trip ahead of you Ash, huh? Best not keep you waiting…"

With that, Vernon ushered his wife and son inside, waved a brief goodbye, before shutting the door, leaving Snape standing on the footpath with his trunk. As soon as the door was shut, Snape dashed off to the nearest clump of bushes and removed all the illusion charms he'd placed on himself, before drawing out Harry's invisibility cloak and donning it, silently walking back to the Dursley's front door. Snape didn't know why he was doing it, but something told him not to leave yet. A silent alarm bell had gone off at the possible mention of Harry, and it wouldn't be silenced until it was satisfied…


	3. Revelations

****

Chapter Three: Revelations

Snape leaned close to the door, hearing some sort of heated discussion taking place. Looking around, he scowled at the lack of windows that would let him see the area he wished. Quickly making a decision, Snape strode around the house, intending to go through the kitchen door, making sure that the delicate cloak was still doing it's job.

Just before he reached the door though, a sudden noise inside the garden shed rang out. The noise was immense, as though a suspended container full of pipes had fallen from the ceiling.

Snape wasted no time, dashing toward the small unit, hoping that the remoteness of the possibility that Harry was inside was in his favour. Just as Snape reached the door, hearing a panicky murmuring from inside, the kitchen door flew open, illuminating the back yard and shed.

Turning abruptly, Snape saw Vernon standing just out the door, looking absolutely apocalyptic.

"BOY!!" he shouted, striding purposefully towards the shed, his hands balled into fists of rage and his face purple. "GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!!!!!"

Snape was surprised to say the least, but his concern spiked to new heights and he drew out his wand, as the sliding door squeaked open, revealing a trembling boy that Snape found he could barely recognise.

"POTTER?!!!" Snape thought, feeling his eyes widen as the boy stepped into the backyard. Whatever Snape had planned to see when he'd arrived there, this most certainly was NOT it.

Potter was littered with welts and bruising of three different shades, and he was sure that he could see patches of blood on the rags he had the gall to call clothes. The night was cool, and Harry only had a t-shirt five times too big for him, a threadbare pair of trousers, and no shoes. Snape could hear his teeth chattering from where he stood.

Vernon roughly shoved Harry to one side, nearly sending the boy tumbling to the ground, and stood in the sheds doorway; seemingly frozen. Slowly, he turned back to Harry, making the boy shake even more violently.

"So," Vernon began, deathly quiet. "Didn't like your new accommodations, did you? Hmm? You should at least be grateful that I didn't throw you back into your old cupboard while Mr Phillips was here. At least "he" appreciated our generosity."

Snape could only stare as Vernon spoke so calmly, yet threateningly at the same time. He barely even noticed that Harry had frozen in terror, until he let out a small cry as his uncle struck at him.

So acute was Snape's shock, that all he did was stare, as Vernon first backhanded Harry, sending him into the wall of the shed, then hurling another crushing blow to his midsection, making the boy double over in pain.

As Harry sank to his knees, clutching his stomach and coughing, Snape came to his senses, brandishing his wand, feeling a surge of anger towards this Muggle almost completely take over his mind. Just as Vernon directed a kick to Harry's stomach, Snape discarded Harry's invisibility cloak, tossing it off to the side as Vernon whirled around to face the intruder.

"Touch that boy again, and you'll wish you never set a hand on him," Snape snarled, putting as much venom into the soft spoken words as he could muster.

"Who the bloody hell are you?!" Vernon demanded, not even noticing Harry struggling to regain his regular breathing. "Get off of my property! This is none of your business …… Freak!" he added viciously, spotting the wand that was pointed at him.

"On the contrary, Mr Dursley," Snape countered silkily, sparing a second to glance at a still winded Harry, who was thankfully starting to stand up again. "It is very much my business. I've been sent here to determine Potter's living conditions, and find them not quite up to standard. He is leaving with me, right now. Am I understood?"

Vernon's eyes narrowed dangerously, as he edged cautiously towards the shed, slowly reaching just inside the door and grasping something as he replied, "This boy isn't going anywhere. I read that letter that arrived here! The Freak ends up killing whoever he associates with — "

"None of that was his fault," Snape cut in sharply, seeing Harry wince in the corner of his eye at the mention of the disastrous ending of the previous term. "Potter didn't get anyone killed, Dursley," he snarled, not seeing the flicker in Vernon's eye as he firmly grasped what he'd been groping for. "You are not this boy's judge, jury and executioner, and you no longer have any say on what is to be done with him. Potter," Snape barked, making the weary boy startle slightly. "We're leaving. Where are your school things?"

At this, Harry's eyes grew sad and he eyed a patch of what seemed to be burnt grass.

"I see," Snape nodded, sending Vernon a glare that could melt stone, as Harry limped to his side. "Not to worry, Potter … they can be replaced. I've already retrieved some items from your room, so we can leave now, if you wish?"

Harry paused for a moment, before nodding quickly and turning away, following Snape back towards the house. A light clicking sound brought both Wizards to a stop, turning around as Vernon spoke vehemently.

"I told you he wasn't going anywhere," he said, staring down the length of the rifle at them. "And seeing how you're the only one who knows of his punishments, than I suppose you'll do just fine…"

The barrel swung around to Snape, who was too shocked to even move, and held steady for a moment, before a deafening thunder rocked the night.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. The first thing Snape recalled feeling was a profound sense of disbelief. After all his years as a spy, cheating death around every corner, and here he was facing his demise at the hands of a Muggle.

In slow motion, Snape watched as a spark ignited, making the nose of the barrel flare with flame as the rifle kicked into Vernon's shoulder in recoil. He heard a high whistle, as the hot lead sped toward him, and tensed in resigned preparation for it's impact …… when suddenly a panicked cry rang out and a body was flung into the bullets path.

Time righted itself, and Snape only just managed to fling his arms around Harry's middle, as the force of the impact sent the boy reeling backwards, colliding with the shell-shocked Potion's Master. Dazed beyond thinking, Snape found himself automatically cradling the boy in his arms, as he slowly lowered him to the ground, unable to tear his eyes from the Emerald gaze, clouded in pain.

He felt warmth surrounding his hands and forced himself to look down, feeling the daze vanish as he saw a crimson stream flowing steadily from the boy's shoulder, covering his hands as he held the shaking child to him.

"Serves him right, the murderer," Vernon's gruff voice growled, breaking the strange moment between Snape and Harry.

At the comment, Snape saw red. How could the boy's own Uncle be so indifferent about possibly killing his only nephew? If it weren't for the fact he was a Muggle, Snape would have sworn Vernon was a Deatheater.

"One less freak to deal with," Vernon added smugly, before looking at Snape and facing the barrel of his rifle at his chest once more. "Soon to be two…"

Snape's mind went into overdrive, planning an escape in the amount of time it took for Vernon to swivel his aim. Quick as a flash, Snape drew his wand, trying to ignore the slickness on his hands as he felt the shaft of wood slide minutely in his grasp. Pointing it at Harry's cloak, he yelled "Accio!" catching it with the same hand, just as he put as much energy as he dared into Apperating with Harry.

Just as the scenery faded and vanished, the last thing Snape heard over Harry's laboured breathing was a gunshot.

They were surrounded by a myriad of colour for a split second, as they both travelled from one spot to another, when as suddenly as it started, it was over. The echo of the gunshot directed at him was still audible in the still night air, as Severus gently lay a barely conscious Harry on the cool ground.

Knowing he had to hurry, as they were now beyond the wards and protection of the house, Snape spared a moment to check over the boy's health.

Harry's skin was pale and clammy, and although he was trembling slightly, he was burning up with fever. The gunshot on his shoulder was still bleeding freely, and Snape could tell that it needed attention immediately. During the quick once over, Snape spotted several rather severe bruising and welts. He was about to take a closer look, when Harry suddenly erupted in a coughing fit, leaving him exhausted and his breathing even weaker. Deciding he'd wasted enough time, Snap quickly gathered all his hidden belongings, placing them with Harry's and shrank them. Gently, he picked Harry off the ground and cradled him, before concentrating intently and apperating, back to Hogsmeade.

Snape looked around quickly when he arrived at the small village, thanking Merlin that the streets were empty. A painfully weak gasp from the boy in his arms made Snape's mind snap back on track, making him walk briskly towards the castle in an effort not to jostle him too much. Although mindful of the boy's comfort level, Snape also knew that time was of the essence, especially with that shoulder wound still expelling the life of the near sixteen year old.

Snape looked down at the raven head resting on his shoulder. Fifteen? It was hard to imagine him being that age, seeing how small and light he was.

"A fine way to celebrate your birthday, tomorrow, Potter," he muttered; though his voice lacked the venom it would normally hold. "No thanks to me…" he added, barely above a whisper.

Snape knew he should be feeling immense gratitude for what Harry had done for him, but all he could come up with was a profound sense of confusion, bordering on resentment. What could possibly have possessed the boy, for him to go and do something so foolish? So stupid? So … _Gryffindor?_ With all the effort they'd gone to, to make sure he _doesn't_ get killed, and he goes and tries it voluntarily!

Snape's anger at the situation had pushed all thoughts of thanks or sympathy from his mind, leaving only an urge to bite the boy's head of by the time he reached the front doors to Hogwarts. Little did he know, that that alone could do more damage than anything had previously…

"POPPY!!" Snape yelled as he burst into the Hospital Wing, gently setting an unconscious Harry on one of the beds. "POPPY, GET OUT HERE NOW!!"

Madame Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office (which doubled as her bedroom), still wearing her nightcap, looking at Severus with bleary eyes and a confused expression.

"Severus? What on earth — "

"Just shut the bloody hell up and get over here!" Snape cut her off sharply, before turning back to the figure on the bed. "Mr Potter requires your assistance…"


	4. Package's

****

Chapter Four: Packages

Poppy frowned and left her office, intent on scolding the potions master for his sharpness, until she saw the condition the young man before her was in.

"My lord, Severus!" she gasped, rushing forward and drawing her wand. "What on earth happened to him?!"

"I should think that was quite obvious, Poppy," Snape sneered, the small bite of impatience in his voice spurring the matron to begin her exam. She was about halfway though — growing more anxious as she went — when the doors to the ward were forcedly opened again, revealing a rather grave looking Dumbledore.

"It seems that your suspicions were correct, Headmaster," Snape called out, in a very condescending tone. "Assuming, of course, that this is what you were talking about when you sent me off to those vile creatures?"

Dumbledore, for his part, had by this time made his way to the bedside, looking as though he'd just had the weight of the world placed on his shoulders.

"Yes, Severus," he answered heavily. "This is, unfortunately, was what was hinted upon in my sources …… but I didn't want to believe it…" He sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment before asking, "How is he, Poppy?"

The petite matron took a deep, shuddering breath, and shakily answered, "He's been shot in the shoulder by a Muggle weapon, causing extensive tissue damage. Though it will leave a nasty scar. The other injuries aren't as serious, but they aren't to be taken lightly either. There is extensive bruising on his body, mainly around the Torso and arms. Several broken ribs, a fractured thighbone, a dislocated shoulder, and an impact wound to the back of his head. He's also sustained a large number of nasty abrasions and welts to the majority of his 

back…"

She paused to gather herself, before adding, confusedly, "Another thing I've noticed, Albus, is that, although Mr Potter is severely malnourished, he seems to be larger than what he was a month ago? I'm probably being paranoid, I know, but I just thought it rather odd…"

"Larger?" said Snape, sounding as though the woman had lost her mind.

"In what way, Poppy?" asked Albus, cutting off any scathing retorts that might have been intended.

"If you'll forgive me, Albus, but I'm not going to elaborate right now. I need to ask the two of you to leave while I treat Mr Potter. Out!"

Snape and Dumbledore found themselves being shoved rather briskly toward the doors, and moments later were standing out in the hallway. They both cringed as the doors slammed shut, sending a loud echo travelling through the halls.

Dumbledore sighed heavily, turning from the shut doors to face Snape, who was also momentarily speechless.

"How did Harry get like this, Severus?" he asked solemnly, sounding so grave that Severus almost let his mask slip.

"I'm not sure, Albus," Snape answered honestly, shaking his head. "I arrived at the incident only half an hour ago, but as to all of his other injuries? I quite sure I could theorise on how he acquired them though…?"

Dumbledore nodded, accepting most of the answer, before asking, "Well then, perhaps you would settle for telling me how he was shot?" The Headmaster quirked an eyebrow questioningly. "As I recall, shootings require at least a second party?"

Snape gave a short, hollow laugh, recalling the event. He looked at his feet for a few moments, contemplating how to answer the question, without sounding as though Potter had done him a favour.

"His Uncle did that, Albus," he settled on saying, seeing how Dumbledore didn't initially ask for specifics. "I was under Mr Potter's invisibility cloak as it happened."

Dumbledore's blue eyes widened at the statement, obviously not contemplating that as one of the possibilities.

"Harry's UNCLE?!" Albus uttered, sounding disbelieving. "As in, Vernon Dursley?"

Snape nodded. "The very same, Albus. Tell me …… did you even suspect the kind of treatment Harry received at that place? Or were you intending to shorten his life span considerably?"

"If you are placing the blame for this on me, Severus, then I will not argue with you," Albus stated bluntly. "If any ill comes from Harry's injuries, then I shall claim responsibility for it, as I should. It was my decision to place him at the Dursley's after all. But tell me, Severus …… Why is it that you didn't OWL me at all throughout the time you spent there this past week, if Harry's situation was as bad as it seems?"

Snap scowled at Dumbledore in a manner unbecoming of a Professor, but Dumbledore seemed to no longer be affected by it, and calmly waited for an answer.

"For starters, Albus, you were the one that told me to _not _owl you, for fear of blowing my cover. The real reason, I suppose, is that I had no idea _what _the boys condition was in, simply because I hadn't seen _any _sign of him for the whole week. The first time I saw him was tonight, and the circumstances of that finding have me believing he was forced to spend the majority of his existence in a back shed, for the duration of my stay, while I was privileged to spend my time in _his _room!"

Severus paused for a moment, needing to get a hold on his temper before it got away from him. "Can you believe them, Albus? They let a stranger take their nephews bedroom, treat him worse than a House-Elf, and showed no remorse after nearly _killing _him!"

Dumbledore nodded, resigned as to how wrong they'd _all_ been, about Harry's home life. "Do you think he will blame me, Severus, for my decision to continually send him back there?"

Snape sighed, shaking his head slowly as both he and Albus paced the deserted corridor.

"Albus … I understand the desire for penance after grave wrongdoings better than most … but, I'm afraid that I don't know the boy well enough to predict his reaction to something like this."

Dumbledore stopped pacing and sighed deeply, as though expelling all his negative thoughts and feelings related to the grim situation. He took a long, deep breath, before turning to the potions master and starting a completely different line of conversation.

"I received a most interesting package while you were away, Severus," he stated, sounding stern though looking rather buoyant, despite the circumstances.

"And what, pray tell, was so interesting about it, Albus?" said Snape, humouring his old mentor.

"Well for starters, it was addressed to you," Albus answered, deadpanned. "But I found the sender the most intriguing part. That and it was a delayed postage, initiated fifteen years ago."

Snape froze, feeling utterly confused by the statement. Who on earth would send him a delayed package? And who could possibly have sent it that would have Dumbledore's eyes shining more than they ever have before?

The fact that the initial posting was done fifteen yrs ago only added to his confusion. Most of the people he associated with at that time were dead and buried, so why wait until now to send him a package? Unless it was something that couldn't be know back then??

"Would you like to open it now, Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly, stopping Snape's train of thought. "Or would you rather wait 'till morning?"

"I believe I shall first wait for any news regarding Mr Potter, Albus," Snape answered, still seemingly deep in thought. "Then, depending on the diagnosis, I'll take the package down to my chambers."


	5. Discussions

****

Chapter Five: Discussions

And so they waited, pacing the deserted corridor as the waited anxiously for any news of Harry's condition. It was around Eleven o'clock that same night, before the doors to the ward opened up, revealing an extremely exhausted Poppy, wearily beckoning them both back inside.

"How is he, Poppy?" asked Dumbledore, his gaze drifting toward the back of the room, where a single raven haired figure lay prone.

"I'll be honest with you Albus," said Poppy quietly, halting by Harry's side. "It was touch and go there for a while, but I'm happy to say he's pulled through nicely."

Both men couldn't help but sigh in relief at the news. Harry was now cleaned up and in a fresh set of flannel pyjamas, looking ten times better than what he did when Snape had carried him in … yet none present could ignore the large purple bruising, and red welts that stood out sharply against the pale skin, marring the maturing features. A large bandage had been wrapped securely around Harry's left shoulder, clearly visible through his clothing, and tinged slightly with red in a couple of patches.

"He's going to be quite tired for the next few days, and of course he'll ache, but otherwise, he should make a full _physical_ recovery," Poppy explained softly, letting her professional mask slip for a moment, allowing her concern and compassion show through.

Snape, however, had heard Poppy's slight emphasis on the word "Physical," and he found himself agreeing with the unsaid suspicion. Harry's body may have been healed to the best condition possible at the moment, but what of the boy's mental state? If anything, it would be fragile, and he knew that they would all have to watch their footing around the boy, once he awoke.

"Will that wound leave a scar, Poppy?" Albus's voice cut into his musings, and Snape looked up in time to see the headmaster point to the near fatal shoulder wound.

Poppy nodded grimly. "Yes, it will, Albus. I've managed to rid him of some smaller and lighter scars, but I'm afraid most of them were simply too deep or too old. That one in particular will leave quite an ugly mark."

"Are you sure you can't remove it, Poppy?" Snape asked, his voice strangely subdued. "There isn't any way to get rid of it?"

Both Albus and Poppy shared a glance, before Dumbledore stepped forward, asking, "Why do you want it gone so badly, Severus? Is anything wrong?"

Snape paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and slipping back into character, scolding himself for the slip-up. But how to answer? Should he tell Dumbledore the real reason why Potter was in such grave condition? Or should he continue leading him on?

Quickly deciding he didn't want Albus knowing exactly what had transpired, he settled — once again — for a version of the truth.

"No, Albus, nothing of large importance. I was merely suggesting that we try and get rid of that particular scar, for it shall always be a constant reminder of what happened tonight. Surely that wouldn't be healthy, would it? To be reminded of the night your Uncle shot you? I think not."

Snape didn't mention that the _real_ reason he wanted the scar gone, was so Potter wasn't always reminded that he'd almost defiantly saved his potion masters life. That was something Snape didn't want. Owing his existence to one Potter was bad enough. He didn't need two.

"A valid point, Severus," said Dumbledore, raising an eyebrow in a fashion that told Severus he knew he wasn't being honest. "It wouldn't be healthy — "

"But there's nothing that we can do about it," Poppy cut in sadly. "So …… enough about things that can't be fixed," she continued, a little more briskly. "It is late, and all that could be done, has been, so I suggest we leave the boy to rest in peace."

"Of course Poppy," Albus answered, turning away and motioning for Snape to follow. "We can check up on Mr Potter's progress tomorrow. Come along Severus. I believe there is an interesting package waiting for you in my office…"

*

Dumbledore and Snape strolled through the empty corridors, their footsteps echoing dimly as they approached the Stone Gargoyle, guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office vigilantly.

Dumbledore muttered the password (Biting Biscuits) and the two professors silently ascended the spiral staircase, both with thoughts on the same subject flitting through their minds, though for completely different reasons.

The reason Vernon shot Harry.

Dumbledore was quite confused about it, for even someone like Mr Dursley would need an initial reason to draw a gun on the boy. He glanced over at Severus, fining him deep in thought also, as he sat behind his desk, deciding to leave the parcel alone for the time being. It was clear by the way Snape had spoken in the Hospital Wing, that he knew something of either great importance, or personal shame. But what could it be…?

"I'd like my package now, headmaster," said Snape, rather bluntly, not wanting to stay with the ancient wizard for too long a time. "It has been a most trying day, and I would like to get some semblance of sleep as soon as I can, so if you would just hand it over, I can be on my way."

"In a moment, Severus," Albus countered, holding up a hand. "First, I would like you to tell me _everything_ about what happened tonight at the Dursleys, concerning Mr Potter's shooting, starting with _why_ Mr Dursley saw it necessary to draw such a weapon on a fifteen year old boy? And do tell me the truth this time?"

Snape glowered darkly at the headmaster, radiating his growing impatience avidly.

"I've already given my account, Albus, and see no use in repeating it," he growled quietly.

"Tell me the truth, Severus," Albus repeated gently, knowing not to overly pressure the potions master into revealing something he was reluctant to say. The best way was usually as simple as waiting, for Severus had a strange habit of talking himself into speaking about something, when he wasn't being hounded for it. Something that had taken years of observation to discover.

A few minutes passed in silence, when finally Snape sighed and gazed at his knees.

"Potter is in this condition because of me, Albus," he all but whispered, not looking up at the headmaster, for fear of spilling out all his thoughts and feelings at the moment.

"How so?" Albus asked gently, noting with some concern how soft-spoken the usually domineering potions master was.

Snape took a deep breath and plunged onward. "After I'd initially left the Dursley's tonight, under my disguise, I went back while under Mr Potter's invisibility cloak. I walked around the back, to find Potter there …… its just — Albus that bullet was meant for me!"

Dumbledore's eyes widened significantly at the statement. "Mr Dursley attacked _you?_"

Snape nodded. "Yes sir, he did. I saw him beating Potter while I was under the cloak, and so I revealed my presence while having my wand drawn. Needless to say words were thrown both ways and he bore a rifle at me…" he paused, swallowing visibly. "He fired …… but Potter dove in front of me…"

Dumbledore surveyed the potions master intently, fingers laced and sitting on his desk comfortably. "It seems that Mr Potter saved your life, Severus."

Snape scowled darkly, hating the very insinuation of a life-debt to yet _another_ Potter.

"If he's looking for thanks, he won't be getting any from me," he hissed in a low tone. "It's not as if I asked him to do it. Probably only wanted more reasons for us to praise him and grovel at his feet…"

"Severus, Harry is not his father," Albus shot out sharply, making Snape stop his ranting in surprise.

"Albus," Snape started, once he'd regained use of his vocal chords. "Potter is _uncannily_ like his father in almost every aspect. They could pass as twins!"

"That may be so, Severus, but it only applies to the way they look," Albus countered strongly. "Their behaviour, and more importantly, their personalities in particular, are strikingly opposite."

Snape snorted. "How on earth can you see that, Albus? They're both trouble makers, arrogant, irritating, attention seeking — "

"Stop right there, Severus," Albus ordered, shooting Snape a mild glare. "Although I'd have to agree that Harry does have an attraction to trouble, he is anything but arrogant, only to you and your Slytherin students is he irritating, and he loathes all the attention he receives from his fame. Harry is a naturally quiet boy, who prefers his own company, or that of his closest friends, to having crowds fawning over him. And you can no longer claim that he is living the high life at his home."

"Which I truly hope he never has to go back to," Snape growled, his black eyes flashing angrily. At Dumbledore's raised eyebrows, Snape continued with, "I might not like the boy, Albus, but no one deserves to be treated like that. Not even him."

Dumbledore nodded, totally agreeing with his old friend.

"Now, about my package?" Snape spoke up suddenly, clearly changing the subject, though Dumbledore didn't protest it.

"Ah, yes," said Albus, rising from his chair and heading for a side drawer. "As I said earlier, Severus, it is most intriguing. I was quite surprised to read her name on a delayed parcel, but I was most curious as to why it was addressed to you…"

Snape looked at Dumbledore's back curiously, wishing he would get out of the way, as he was blocking his view. He heard a soft thump, as the package was placed on the bench, followed by the scrape of the draw closing. Finally, the headmaster turned, and in his hands was a parcel approximately the same size as a shoebox, wrapped in parchment, old and yellowing.

Swallowing nervously as Albus drew closer, Snape looked down at the label as he placed it on his desk in front of him, feeling utter bewilderment surge through him alongside mild fear at the label written in fading purple ink.

__

To: Severus Sebastian Snape

By delayed postage: instigated on the 30th of August, 1980.

Message: It's your right to know, Severus. Everything you need to figure it out, is inside this box. It is true … don't fight it.

I forgive you

Sender: Lily Anne Evans Potter


	6. Black and White

****

Chapter Six: Black and White

__

To: Severus Sebastian Snape

By delayed postage: instigated on the 30th of August, 1980.

Message: It's your right to know, Severus. Everything you need to figure it out, is inside this box. It is true … don't fight it.

I forgive you

Sender: Lily Anne Evans Potter

*

Snape stood stunned, staring at the name as though it had stupefied him. Why on earth would Lily Potter send him a parcel? It was unheard of! They had been friends during school, but nothing of extreme closeness or attachment. In fact, he remembered a number of rather heated arguments between them. And she forgave him for what? He couldn't remember ever doing something to her that would warrant forgiveness fifteen years down the track. Then there was the line, "It is true…" What was true? And don't fight what?

Severus shook his head, trying to clear it as the jumbled riddle of words was thrust into his mind, demanding to be sorted straight away.

"Aren't you going to open it, Severus?" Albus's soft vice drifted over to him, drawing his attention from the disconcerting package. "Or would you rather wait and open it in the dungeons?"

Snape glanced up at Dumbledore briefly, scowling when he found the headmaster winking at him with amusement; when suddenly, an idea struck him full force.

"You know why Lily has sent me this, don't you Albus?"

Dumbledore paused, but soon nodded slightly. "Yes, I do, Severus. Although, the reason she sent it to you only became apparent when it arrived, and I saw it was addressed to you. Lily told me something very personal, not long after Mr Potter was born, and until today, I had no idea that you had anything to do with it. I think you'll find that that package will answer a number of questions that have been haunting you for over a decade, Severus. Are you ready for those questions to be answered?"

Severus scowled deeply at the headmaster, wishing the old man would stop asking for things in riddles. How should he know what questions the old coot was talking about that existed over ten years ago?

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Albus."

"You will," Dumbledore replied simply, "as soon as you open that." He pointed at the still wrapped shoebox in Snape's hands.

The potions master stared at the object in his hands for what seemed an eternity, before he insatiable curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself back in the chair by Dumbledore's desk, placing the parcel on the polished wood, before carefully removing the tattered and ageing parchment.

A small wooden box was revealed, as the last of the wrapper fell to the carpeted floor, and Snape gently returned it to his lap.

Fingers trembling in the slightest, he reached for the lid and slipped the latch; grasping the edges firmly as he lifted it, hearing a faint squeak of old hinges, as it swung upwards.

What met his eyes, at first, was extremely confusing … but after a few minutes of inspection, a slow realization began to spring to mind, clearly showing on his usually expressionless features.

"Oh my God!" gasped Snape, shaking his head at Dumbledore, his black eyes almost begging what he now knew to be true, was false. "Please tell me she was mistaken, Albus … please … it can't be true…"

Dumbledore quickly stepped over toward the shocked professor, taking the box from his violently shaking hands before he dropped it, along with it's precious cargo.

"Sit down, Severus," he said gently, coaxing the other back into the chair beside him. "Calm down … Panicking will get us nowhere. And no, Lily was not mistaken, Severus," the headmaster added subtly, noticing how the trembling ceased almost instantly at the announcement, only to be replaced with a stiff anxiety. "It is true, my boy. He is what you fear … on both accounts…"

"How is it possible?" said Snape, looking as though he was in a daze. "How could she have been one of them? How is it possible that I was the one that took her?! The chances would've been almost non existent…"

Dumbledore resettled himself behind his desk to gaze reflectively at the rather young man before him. "Yes, Severus, the chances were virtually nil … but by chance or fate, you ended up with Lily. And the product is lying in the Hospital Wing, with no knowledge of exactly _who_, and _what _he is…"

Snape shook his head immediately.

"He's not getting told, Albus," said Snape coldly. "I don't care what relation to me that boy possesses. He doesn't need to know, and I don't _want _him to … so we stay silent."

Dumbledore was visibly shocked by the harsh request, and started to obviously disagree, when the door to his office was opened hurriedly, and a bedraggled Remus Lupin dashed into the room.

Severus noted how the werewolf was out of breath, as though he'd sprinted from the main gate, and he was notably paled than normal, even for him.

"Remus," said Albus, also noting the former professors appearance, though knowing the reason behind it. "I wasn't expecting you here just yet … but no matter. Sit down and rest. Lemon Drop?"

Remus shook his head as he headed for the spare chair by Severus, pointedly ignoring the potions master.

"No thank you, Albus," he answered, sitting down. "I only came to make sure you got the letter I sent you and see if you were able to check up on him?"

A light went off at the back of Severus's mind.

"So _you're _Albus's little informant concerning Potter, are you Lupin?" he remarked scathingly, letting his bitterness from the new information uncovered seep into his voice. "Were you just guessing, or are you a Seer now? Will wonders never cease…"

Remus bristled. "This is nothing to joke about, Severus! I had received letters from Ron and Hermione regarding their concerns about Harry's not writing to them. They asked me to go check, but I wasn't able to at the time due to the recent full moon, so I told Albus so he could see about it. I never got a reply so I came around at first chance…"

"Oh, My apologies, Remus," Albus said remorsefully. "I'm afraid it slipped my mind after I sent Severus here to take action on your advice — "

"Wait, you sent _him_?" Remus exclaimed, clearly surprised and almost appalled by the idea. "Why would you send someone that had no interest in Harry's well being? Why not Tonks, or … _someone _else…? And how was he, by the way? Was he all right? Did he have a reason for not responding to his letters?"

Severus and Albus shared a glance that wasn't missed by Remus.

"What?" he asked, feeling worry start to seep into his bones. "What's wrong with him? He's not hurt is he? And what is that box for?"

Remus pointed at the package Severus received, that was now sitting open on Dumbledore's desk. He stood and looked inside before either of the men could react to the question; his curiosity overriding Harry for the briefest of moments.

Severus stood abruptly, intent on snatching the box of goods from under the werewolf's nose, but stopped at a gesture from Dumbledore. Snape shook his head, not wanting Remus to know what lay in it, nor wanting him to ask the questions they would surely stir in him. Dumbledore looked at him from under his white eyebrows, practically ordering him silently to sit back down. Gritting his teeth, he complied, remaining extremely tense as he watched the wizard rummage through the container.

"Severus … Why do you have a delayed package from Lily?" he asked finally in a strained voice.

Unable to answer the question, Dumbledore stepped in.

"Try and figure it out, Remus. Just look at the contents and put it together. Once you figure it out though, I ask you to remain calm."

Remus nodded numbly, still a little shaken by the note Lily left on the package. What had Severus done that required an apology for? Of all the Marauders, and Gryffindors in general, Severus had always treated Lily the nicest.

Peering into the box, Remus was confused as he saw an empty potion bottle, a medics report, and a ring. Frowning, Remus picked up the ring, obviously made for a man, and studied it, something about it tickling a piece of information at the back of his mind. The design was familiar, yet unknown to him. Definitely from a pureblood family … but Lily was Muggleborn? It wasn't James's either, that much was obvious. He hated snakes, and the main motif for the ring was snakes, speckled with miniscule emeralds as though they were scales. The ring itself was made of ebony, which in itself was peculiar … Remus's eyes widened.

"This is your ring, Severus," he breathed, still studying the piece of jewellery. "I remember, you used to wear it all the time. At a meeting, you mentioned you gave it up … but, how would Lily have it?"

Snape remained silent. He knew how she'd gotten it, but he didn't want to remember anything of that night. It had been an extremely, …_enormously _special, Dark Revel. One he couldn't get out of attending, or participating in, even though he was known to despise the vulgar goings on at them.

The most trusted and worthy Deatheaters were given an unknown Muggleborn to take for the night, fully expected to rape them. They would even be tested when they were finished, to make sure the act had been performed. The was no way out of it.

Severus remembered clearly, how he'd given his unidentifiable "prize" his treasured ring, apologizing to the half conscious woman for what he'd been forced to do to her. He still didn't know what compelled him to give the ring up … but he had … and now he knew who'd received it.

"Why don't you keep looking, Remus," said Albus, disturbing the nauseating memories of past days from Severus's mind.

Sighing, Remus placed the ring on the desk and retrieved the next item. The empty potions bottle. Turning it in his hands, Remus read the faded label aloud.

__

Appearance alteration potion: extra strong.

Expected expiration date: July 1996

He turned a quizzical eye to Snape.

"Why would Lily want one of these? I'm sure you'd know, because you invented this little beauty, and no one else can brew it…"

Snape swallowed the small lump in his throat, deciding that the answer wasn't as confidential as the previous one had been.

"That's correct, Lupin. Lily came to me not long before that package was sent, asking me for it. The strongest one I had. I'd asked her why, but she refused to tell me the reason … saying something about how a friend of hers needed it…"

He trailed off, unable to keep his mind on the obvious reason why Potter resembled James Potter physically with such accuracy. He shook his head, not wanting to broach _that _tangent, permanently.

Remus nodded, unconvinced, and pulled out the last object. Snape didn't need him to read it aloud, as he'd already read it … the words burned into his retina.

It was a medics report, and it was the last thing he needed to realize the truth about Potter.

It read:

__

Standard Pregnancy Test.

Patient: Lily Potter.

Date: Fifteenth of December, 1979

Results: Positive.

Date of Conception: Thirty first of October, 1979

Snape had felt an iron clamp about his heart at those words, for he'd seen the ring and potion bottle first, arousing his suspicions. But the test confirmed it.

The Dark Revel had been held on Halloween 1979 … He'd given his ring to his victim that night … and Lily had come to him for a potion to change appearances not one month after her son was born.

It was black and white.

Harry Potter was his son.


	7. Strange Happenings

****

Chapter Seven: Strange Happenings

"Severus," Remus began, his eyes fixed to the report in his hand. "Why would Lily send you a report of Harry's conception?"

Snape's eyes flared angrily, wishing that the stupid werewolf would just put two and two together. Give it time, thought Severus bitterly. The date will ring a bell eventually, and he'll remember what was reported that night…

Remus was confused. The items made no sense at all. But Remus was determined to figure it out. Lily had sent these things to Snape for a reason, and it was obviously an important one…

He cast his mind back to that time frame … searching his memories that held more significance than the others…

Then it clicked. There had been a meeting that night, on Halloween, and Snape had returned to them in a very foul mood. When asked what the gathering of Deatheaters had entailed, he was reluctant to speak, but eventually told of the horrors performed on the Muggleborn women.

It had been a special ceremony, used to impregnate the ultimate follower and warrior for Voldemort's future use.

Before the Revel had started, Voldemort had apparently cast complicated spells on the women, and made them drink a combination of potions that Snape had unwittingly prepared. The results would imbibe the growing foetus with astonishing power and ability …… so much so that a grown man couldn't handle the sudden influx of power, suffering a magical overload and frying to a crisp.

They knew …… they'd seen some earlier test subjects.

The idea was for Voldemort to perform these final transformations on himself, but when it was discovered that he was unable to live through the whole process, he decided to try it on freshly conceiving offspring.

Remus's mouth dropped open as all the elements slotted into place, making him swivel to face Snape in near on a blind rage. But that wasn't the entire problem. He was stricken by the thought of what Harry really was …… and the fact that he had no idea of it…

Almost as though he read his mind, Snape looked at the ground, in an uncharacteristic display of defeat, and nodded his head saying, "Yes it's true, Remus. I fathered Potter, and he is not human…"

A series of emotion flashed across Remus's face, but he eventually settled on distress and promptly slumped down into the spare chair.

"Oh Lord…" he muttered croakily. "How will we tell him — "

"We're not," Snape interrupted sharply, making Remus raise his eyebrows a second before frowning deeply at him. "He is going to remain blissfully ignorant of what he is, and who fathered him. I don't want him knowing about any of it…"

"But, Severus," Remus began, bewilderedly. "He needs to know what he is … what he was originally intended for. With Voldemort active again, he needs to know the danger. He may even have a minor ability or two already…?"

"That is doubtful, Remus," Albus interrupted gravely. "Especially considering his condition after Severus brought him back from his Uncle's house — "

"Condition?" Remus cut in urgently, a sense of panic filling his chest. "What condition? Was he all right? Where is he?"

Dumbledore held up a hand, silencing the werewolf's rushed diatribe.

"Try to calm down please, Remus," he said quietly. "Harry was recently admitted to the infirmary in a rather critical condition … but, thanks to Madame Pomfrey, he has stabilized and should wake sometime late tomorrow."

"Could you define "Critical condition" please?" Remus demanded, although there was no spite in his words. Only acute concern.

Sighing in defeat, Albus proceeded to explain the particulars involved in Harry's condition, trying his best to brush over Snape's close call, but only getting to where Harry jumped in front of the potions master, before Remus butted in incredulously.

"What do you mean he jumped in front of you?" he shot out, glaring at Snape as though he was an insect under his boot. "You mean he was shot in _your _place?!!"

Snape only nodded shortly.

"What, no remark from our witty potions master? Too embarrassed to be saved by _two _generations of Gryffindors?"

"Shut it werewolf!" Severus snapped heatedly, slamming a fist onto his armrest. "I never asked for him to do it! It was his own Gryffindor stupidity that got him into this mess, so don't go taking your shit out on me!"

Remus was floored. It took a huge amount of aggravation to get the Slytherin to use fowl language, and the fact that he'd done so was saying how much the situation was actually bothering him much more effectively than words could ever convey.

"Will you both calm down?" Dumbledore put in pacifying, looking between the two men with mild irritation. "Remus, Harry is now stable and on the road to recovery, so taking your worry out on Severus will not help him in the slightest. And Severus …… watch your language…" Dumbledore allowed himself a small grin at the brooding man's scowl, before turning serious once more. "Now … it is late, and I dare say it has been a most trying day for all concerned. Go to bed, both of you, and get some rest in preparation for Mr Potter's imminent awakening tomorrow. Remus, you may stay in the teachers quarters for the time being."

Remus nodded, shooting a death glare at Severus, as he stood from his chair, nodding his farewell to Dumbledore, and striding quickly from the circular office; obviously still ticked at Severus's seeming unappreciativeness of Harry's noble act.

The door slammed shut and Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, looking up when the headmaster spoke.

"Severus, you really shouldn't resent young Mr Potter so much, considering what he did for you tonight. Especially in light of this new information of you being his — "

"Don't say it!" Snape cut in viciously. "I'm not and that's final. He's not getting told of it … at least, nothing where I'm involved. You may inform him of his non-human status if you feel it necessary, Albus, but I don't want to be the one to explain anything to him about it…"

Albus looked at the tired and weary man reflectively, seeing the great amount of distress he was actually under, with the news of his parentage to Harry.

"I won't make any promises, Severus," he answered quietly. "And I refuse to make any large decisions until I've had a descent nights sleep. We can continue this in the morning."

Sighing, Snape nodded in approval and stood from his chair, quietly bidding the headmaster goodnight, before striding from the room intent on sleeping away his worries …… knowing that he would be unable to do so…

*****

Harry slowly became aware of his surroundings, as he blearily opened his eyes to a haze of white. Squinting, he looked around as best he could, feeling startled as his vision slowly came into focus, even though he wasn't wearing his glasses.

Sitting up abruptly, Harry winced as his body screamed in protest at the movement, remembering in full his last moments of wakefulness. He'd been half conscious and in the arms of a strangely horrified Professor Snape, just after being shot by his Uncle.

Harry shook his head, remembering the incident, but was distracted when, at the motion of his head, a swath of raven hair fell into his now perfect vision. Mouth hanging open, Harry reached up and pulled on the locks gently, feeling confused when he discovered them to be real. Swatting it from his eyes, Harry looked down and saw that his hair had grown considerably, and was just grazing the top of his shoulders.

Looking around however, Harry's mind drifted from his hair and now focused on the room he was occupying. Although the curtains were pulled around his bed, Harry already knew that he had managed to get into the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, before the term had even begun.

He sighed heavily, sitting up further, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder. Biting back a gasp, Harry looked down and brought up his hand, gently fingering the bandages covering what he knew would be quite an unsightly mark. He shook his head again, swallowing the lump in his throat as the past month began to surface, pressing unwanted images to the front of his mind.

When he'd first arrived at Privet Drive, it hadn't been any worse than previous years. Just the normal chores 'till sunset routine, with the threat of Sirius hanging over the Dursley's heads. But after a letter arrived, informing them of the happenings at the Department of Mysteries, along with a piece of news saying Sirius had been killed in the confusion …… everything went from bad to worse.

Uncle Vernon had had him locked in his room for the first week of the holidays, barely giving him any food while making him practically renovate the house and yard, and sending pre-written letters to the Order as requested at the end of term. Hedwig had been unco-operative at first, but Vernon had threatened to shoot her, so reluctantly, his familiar did as she was told.

As he wasn't getting enough food, he became slow with his chores, giving his Uncle every reason he'd been waiting for to dish out those "extra" punishments he'd been dying to give him for years.

Not long after that … Harry shuddered at the thought … Uncle Vernon had decided to throw him back in the cupboard under the stairs, saying how they needed the extra space for Dudley's new birthday presents.

The last week of July, however, was when his Uncle had seen it fit to make him live out in the garden shed, because some bloke was coming for a week on some kind of survey, to see how a "Normal British Family" lived.

Harry remembered clearly, how he was locked in the tin can for most of the day, only being let out in the early morning, to get breakfast ready and clean it up afterwards; and the evening so he could cook dinner … and naturally clean it up afterwards.

On the last night of Mr Phillips's stay, the shed door hadn't been locked so he could clean up the dinner dishes after he'd gone. He remembered trying to smuggle his (now empty) trunk back into the house while the rest of the Dursley's were showing the Muggle out, but in his haste, he'd only succeeded in tipping over one of the unsteady shelving units filled with paints and other liquids, destroying one of Dudley's birthday presents, which happened to be a small pool table that Uncle Vernon had bought himself.

He'd hastily put his trunk back where it was supposed to be, and got back into place before Vernon had stormed into the shed, purple faced and ballooning to double his size with rage. That's when the routine beating had started. Not that it was anything new for him to experience … but nothing had prepared him for seeing Professor Snape materialize before him, with his wand aimed at Uncle Vernon, and apparently rather pissed at the Muggle.

Harry rested his head against the headboard, hating the fact that the Potions Master had turned up when he did. Sure, he'd taken him from his nightmare relatives, but now he knew how he was treated there. And although it was a far cry from the spoiled existence the Professor had dreamed him in, it was the knowledge that he would now undoubtedly rub his abuse in his face that made Harry cringe.

After all … how could he defend the Wizarding world against a psychopathic madman, when he couldn't even defend himself from a mere Muggle? 

Harry rubbed at his shoulder unconsciously. But then, he _had _saved the Professor's life, hadn't he? Surely that had to count for something, right? Even Snape couldn't ignore something as important as that, could he?

Harry shook his head again. Playing what if wouldn't get him anywhere. Leaning to the side slightly, Harry carefully drew a part of his curtains, seeing that the Ward was currently empty. Smiling to himself, he jerked the material and opened the curtains fully, noting that it was probably late afternoon, if the lighting was anything to go by.

Vaguely, Harry wondered what day it was, seeing how he'd been denied his calendar for some time. He looked around, marvelling at how sharp his eyesight was, now that he needed no glasses, but was disappointed to find nothing informing him of the date.

A noise to the side sent Harry's attention that way, only to see Madame Pomfrey walk from her office, no doubt to check up on him for the afternoon. As she spotted him, she seemed to startle slightly, but in a flash, she was back to normal as though nothing abnormal had happened.

"Mr Potter," she smiled, approaching him quickly. "Nice to see you awake, after the rather precarious condition you arrived in last night."

"It's nice to be awake, Madame Pomfrey," Harry answered quietly, keeping his eyes downcast as he spoke to her. He didn't need to look at her, to know just how bad his condition would have been – in what apparently was only – the previous night. Even taking out the obvious injuries his Uncle had bestowed upon him. Looking up, he could see the sympathy she felt for him in her eyes, but chose to ignore it. He didn't deserve it.

"Um … Where is everyone?" he asked, waiting for the Matron to begin her check-up.

Poppy eyed him for a moment, but soon became the Nurse that had treated him so many times over his years at Hogwarts.

"Well, it depends on who you mean when you say, "everyone" Mr Potter. If you're talking about the headmaster, he's currently with Professor Snape and Remus Lupin, in his office. He asked to be informed to minute you awoke, so I'll only be a minute while I fulfil that request."

Poppy smiled at him as she left, undoubtedly from the astonished look he'd been giving her at his favourite Werewolf's name. Lupin? Here? Harry was at a loss as to why he'd even be anywhere _near _here, let alone in the headmaster's office.

Poppy emerged from her office again and headed his way.

"The headmaster will be here shortly, Mr Potter," she told him briskly. "I'll just give you your check-up before he gets here, and see how well you've been healing…"

Harry nodded absently, used to the Matron's behaviour by now. He sat silently as she poked and prodded, but was curious when she was looking more and more confused, as the examination continued.

"Um … is something wrong, Madame Pomfrey?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to disrupt her concentration.

The nurse didn't reply, and simply motioned for him to remain still, as she gently applied pressure to a section of his ribs.

"Does that hurt at all, Mr Potter?" she asked seriously. Harry shook his head bemusedly. Poppy twisted her lip in visible confusion. Shaking her head, she continued with the exam as though she'd done nothing strange.

After a few minutes, she straightened up, apparently satisfied, though still seeming bewildered by something.

"What?" he asked suddenly, unable to take the Matrons scrutiny any longer. "What's so interesting?"

Poppy looked at him, searchingly, her eyes travelling over him as though looking for something important.

"Mr Potter," she started with utmost seriousness. "You seem to have made an almost complete and full recovery in one night …"

Harry balked, unable to comprehend the Matron's announcement.

"Excuse me?" he remarked, giving himself a quick once over to see if she was telling the truth. "That's not possible!" But Harry knew he was simply in denial, once he realized that, the pains he'd felt earlier, were only similar to those an overworked athlete might have … not someone who'd received a mighty beating, and a gunshot wound.

"It's remarkable," Poppy commented, in an awed kind of voice. "And there are no signs of any foreign magic being used during the process …… If I didn't know any better, Mr Potter – I'd say that your natural healing capabilities have increased by about tenfold!" she gushed, almost seeming faint with the realization. "I'm quite sure that if I was to cut you right now, we'd see the wound close and heal before our eyes…"


	8. What?

****

Chapter Eight: What…?

Remus pound his fist into the hand rest of his chair, positively seething at the potion's master seated beside him, as the headmaster merely observed reservedly.

"Why won't you tell him, Severus?" he growled vehemently, eyes flashing angrily. "He has a right to know that he has a father that's still alive!"

Snape shook his head, glaring at Remus like he was a bug that he wanted to squash.

"I will do no such thing, Lupin. Potter is quite content believing that his father was an arrogant show-off, albeit a deceased one, and seems to enjoy copying his behaviour to a tee. I see no reason whatsoever to alter his perception of reality, and inform him that his actual father is a spying Deatheater, un-wanting offspring." Remus glared, but it had no effect on Snape. "Who am I to raise a snivelling little rodent, that will surely make my life even _more _of a misery once discovering his true parentage? Not to mention the _method _… of which he was conceived…"

Remus tried to contain his temper, gripping his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Severus … Harry deserves to know the truth, especially after Sirius's death and what he went through with his Muggle relatives. I know you wouldn't treat him like that in a million years, no matter how much you think you hate him. Why don't you just tell him and give him a chance? It's not like you've got anything to loose by telling him. The worst he can do, is hate you as much as you show him you do to him. The alternative is he'll accept you … with time…"

"And why would I want that?" Snape retorted, after hearing out Remus's argument. "Why would I want to accept the Gryffindor Golden Boy, as my own? I'm no parent, Lupin. I'm possibly the worst person imaginable to even contemplate the role…"

"Well then what of his inevitable transformation?" Remus demanded, changing tack instantly. "How will you explain that to him?"

Snape smirked coldly. "Simple," he stated evenly. "I won't be telling him. I refuse to get involved in any of this."

"Well, it's a little late for you to say that, Severus," Remus spat scathingly. "If it weren't for your … involvement … Harry would never have been born!!"

"Yes he would have, Lupin," Snape ground out between clenched teeth. "The only difference would be he'd've had a different father. That and I doubt Lily would have made it out of that place as unscathed as she did…"

"You call being raped by a damn Deatheater "unscathed?"" Remus burst out, springing to his feet and rounding on the potions master.

"Calm yourself, Remus," Dumbledore's soft voice interrupted, successfully distracting the werewolf enough to let his anger abate. "Getting violent will do nothing that the past few hours hasn't done already. Now, as to your declaration, Severus," he turned toward the Slytherin, smiling politely, "I'm afraid that you _will _be the one to inform Mr Potter of his unfortunately occurring transformation. Don't argue with me," he added, as Snape opened his mouth to protest. "I went and checked on him this morning, and I must say, that he is already looking remarkably like you … and not only that, but it seems that his body structure has already begun to change…"

"So quickly?" said Remus, his expression clouded with confusion. "But, how…?"

Snape spoke up, so quietly the other two occupants of the room barely heard him, "The speed of the transformation, is determined by the power he is able to wield. Not all of the Dark Lords new warriors would be equal in strength. They actually fluctuated greatly … but, seeing how Mr Potter's has begun so quickly … abnormally quickly I might add … he may be extraordinarily powerful…"

Dumbledore and Lupin allowed this new information to sink in, before glancing at each other for a fleeting moment. Soon breaking the contact, Dumbledore returned his gaze to Snape.

"If his changes are to appear so quickly, then we need to inform Harry of his heritage as soon as possible … and the best person for that, would be the only one that knows almost everything about it…" he trailed off, but Dumbledore's piercing gaze never left the obsidian one before him.

"Very well, Albus," Snape agreed reluctantly. "I will inform him of what he is, upon his regaining consciousness … but I will not disclose the fact that I fathered him. I would much prefer not having a raging Avatar on my hands…"

At that moment, the fireplace roared to life, and immediately turned a vivid green, surprising all the occupants. Not a moment later, Madame Pomfrey's head popped into view.

"Ahh, Poppy," Albus smiled. "How are you this afternoon?"

The matron turned her head towards the headmaster, giving him a half-hearted smile. "I'm fine, Albus. I just thought I'd tell you, that Mr Potter has finally woken up … and I might add, that I got a shock when I came out to see him just now…" she added, frowning slightly.

"Why's that, Poppy?" Albus frowned, curious.

"Well, it's just that … he doesn't look the same as he did last night. I mean … to name only one: his hair has grown to his shoulders overnight!"

Dumbledore nodded, while Remus and Snape continued to glare daggers at each other.

"Very well, Poppy," he answered, nodding his head and ignoring his two companions. "Thank-you for informing me. We'll be right down."

Poppy nodded and promptly vanished from the fire.

"Well then," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Time to visit the Hospital Wing, wouldn't you agree?"

Remus simply shook his head, as he got to his feet, and Snape scowled deeply, but soon followed suit, following the two wizards from the office, and beginning the trek to see the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

***

"You know, it doesn't hurt as much as it did before," Harry stated calmly, as Poppy diligently saw to his shoulder wound … which had all but healed in the fourteen hours he had been unconscious. Now, the star shaped scar was clearly visible against his pale skin. It was still a dark red colour, and was now scabbed over, but it was no longer a gaping wound that bled freely.

"I wouldn't expect it to, Mr Potter," Poppy replied distractedly, still going over the rest of his former wounds, checking to see if it wasn't her imagination, and they really had healed almost overnight. "It's almost healed, strangely enough … and it appears I am not going mad," she declared, straightening up and peering down at him. "You have most definitely healed almost completely from last night's events."

"But how is that possible?" Harry asked again, still at a loss as to how that could have happened. "Nothing heals that fast!"

Poppy shook her head. "I've no idea, Mr Potter. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough though…"

"Can we test your earlier theory, then?" Harry suggested, unabashedly.

Poppy blinked. "What theory?"

"The one where you said that if I was to be cut, it would probably heal right then and there?"

"Are you completely barmy?" Poppy scolded, shaking her head at her patient. "That was merely a comparison, Mr Potter. I had no intention of testing such a theory!"

Harry shrugged. "Well then I'll do it myself," he stated calmly, reaching for the steak knife that had been brought with the meal he had just finished eating.

Madame Pomfrey regained use of her senses, just as Harry had clasped the knife, and started to bring it to his forearm. Immediately, her hand darted out and caught the wrist holding the knife, screeching, "You will do no such thing, Mr Potter! You're here to be healed, not to inflict more harm upon yourself!!"

"But it's just going to be a little scratch," Harry tried to reason, not submitting the blade. "Come on. It was your idea in the first place…"

"Was not!!"

"Was too!"

"Was not!"

The banter back and forth continued, with neither participant relinquishing their hold on the small knife, until a rather amused chuckle echoed through the room, alerting the squabbling pair to the fact that they were no longer alone.

Both Harry and Poppy turned to look at the trio sheepishly, before Poppy released her hold on Harry's wrist, and he likewise replaced the knife on the tea tray.

"Uh … Hello, Professor Dumbledore," said Harry lightly, waving lamely and giving him a small grin. Remus smiled and shook his head, while Snape simply snorted.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter," Dumbledore answered kindly. "You seem to be enjoying your stay in the ward, for once? Anything wrong?" he asked coyly.

Harry shook his head, but couldn't stop himself from smiling, even a little. What it must have looked like, for the headmaster to walk into the Ward, to find the Matron and her patient, squabbling so childishly…?

Madame Pomfrey seemed to have thought of something similar, and was quickly trying to regain her composure.

"No Albus. There appears to be nothing wrong with Mr Potter, except for the fact that almost all of his injuries seemed to have healed overnight. The only one that is still in need of a little treatment, is the wound on his shoulder, there … and I suspect that even that one won't need treatment by tomorrow morning…"

"Really," Dumbledore muttered absently, casting a significant glance to the two persons behind him. "Interesting…" he turned to Snape and muttered, "Astonishingly quickly, it would seem…"

Harry frowned at the soft words, but still saw the potion masters jaw clench abruptly, and his eyes grow narrower, almost staring at him appraisingly. Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks, as he looked away from the intense gaze, noticing for the first time since the small group arrived, that he was still shirtless, due to Poppy's examination.

Hastily, he drew the sheets up around his chest and folded his arms, ignoring the restrained chuckling that Remus was issuing.

"Um … Hello Professor Lupin," Harry mumbled, sparing his old teacher a swift glance, before returning his gaze to the bed covers.

"Hello Harry," Remus answered, smiling in amusement at his obvious embarrassment. "You don't have to call me Professor anymore, you know? You can call me Remus, if you like?" Harry nodded a little. "How are you feeling, this afternoon?"

"Fine, sir."

"Are you feeling any different than you did any other day?" Dumbledore asked suddenly, eyeing Harry carefully along with Snape and Remus. "Anything unusual that you haven't experienced before?"

Harry looked at the older wizards in confusion, wondering why they would ask him such a question.

"Um … No sir," he answered slowly, trying to gauge their different reactions to his answer. "Nothing unusual, … well … not until I woke up, at least…"

"What do you mean, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired, looking innocent. Harry, however, could tell that he wasn't being completely honest.

"Well," Harry started hesitantly. "When I was taken by Professor Snape last night … I wasn't exactly … um — that is … my Uncle…"

"It's all right, Harry," Dumbledore cut in gently, smiling encouragingly. "We know what you mean to say. Please continue…"

Harry nodded, trying to rid himself of the slight tremors that had sprung in him at the memories of the past four weeks. "Well, I wasn't well, to say the least. But … when I woke up this afternoon, Madame Pomfrey told me that I'd pretty much healed completely. Almost all the injuries I had, had been healed. The only one that still needed treatment, was my ahh … my shoulder wound," he finished softly, letting his eyes drift to the potions master, remembering what had happened that night in order for him to receive the wound.

Snape held his gaze for only a moment, but the unspoken message passes between them during the contact. He too, remembered the circumstances behind the wound … and he was equally reluctant to bring the subject up … though for completely different reasons.

"Hmm," Dumbledore murmured, appearing lost in thought. "Harry," he started after a short moment. "There is something that you don't know, about yourself, that you should have been told some while ago, but the time just never seemed to be right, nor did we know enough to actually tell you."

Harry blinked, looking at each of the men in turn, though none seemed to want to hold his gaze; not even the foreboding potions master. Frowning at the fact that something of obvious importance about himself had been kept from him, Harry sat up straighter, ignoring how he was exposing his torso again, as the sheets fell to his waist.

"What?" he asked, rather more forcefully than he intended, making him sound as though he was ordering them to tell him. "What about me?"


	9. An Avatar?

****

Chapter Nine: An Avatar?

Snape's mind was spinning, as he accompanied Albus and Remus down to the hospital wing, knowing that it was expected of him to explain to Potter, exactly what he was, and what was to happen to him.

The other thing was, how was he going to react to him, now that he knew he was his son? He knew himself that he didn't want to formally acknowledge that fact … but that didn't stop the torrent of strange and foreign emotions from building up in him at the thought. He couldn't be any nicer to the boy, that was obvious. To do so in public would be a huge risk to his position as a spy amongst Voldemort's supporters. However, he knew that he would find it impossible to still treat the boy as he did, with the knowledge that he was … _his_.

Shaking his head against the inner battle, Snape came back to the present and noticed that they had reached the doors to the Hospital Wing. Unconsciously holding his breath, he waited anxiously as Dumbledore opened the doors, bracing himself to see anything, after Albus's little comment of how Potter's appearance seemed to be already changing.

The doors swung open, revealing the white room, and the small troop entered, heading towards the only two occupants … who seemed to be having something of a disagreement over a steak knife.

Unbidden, a small smirk appeared on Snape's pallid features, before he swiftly forced it away, scolding himself for the momentary slip up. He couldn't start showing any unexpected emotions in the boy's presence, no matter what his relation to him was.

Inwardly, however, Snape felt amused at the small scuffle, wondering how on earth the two got into such a discussion in the first place. Albus chuckled, and the two stopped their argument, looking decidedly sheepish at being seen behaving like five year olds.

It was during the small discussion between Albus and Poppy, that he took his first real look at Potter, feeling his breath catch in his throat at the sight of how much he'd changed since the previous night.

His hair had in fact, grown to just on his shoulders (though some bangs were hanging in his eyes; too short to hook behind his ears), which also seemed to have broadened noticeably, despite the boys apparent slimness. Although, that was sure to change rather dramatically over the next few weeks. And even though he couldn't tell properly, Snape was sure that the boy had gotten a little taller in height … but he would have to wait for him to stand to be sure.

But what had him staring almost blatantly at Potter, was his face. It had most definitely changed the most … even if he could still see some of James in him. Lily's features seemed to be finally coming out, alongside features that were completely foreign to the boys face. His cheekbones were a little higher, and his jaw line was smooth but sharp. He still bore some of James's boyishness, but he was certainly gaining a decisively Snape-ish look. His voice was even a little different. Deeper … smoother … it was actually rather silky like his own.

At that moment, Albus turned to mutter in his ear, whispering about how quickly Potter seemed to be changing. Snape privately agreed with his unspoken conclusion. Potter was changing so quickly, it was almost unthinkable how much power he would be capable of wielding.

Potter suddenly locked his Emerald eyes on his own, almost as if he knew he was thinking about him. They held the contact for a moment, before the boy blushed profusely and drew the covers up over him, only just noticing that he was without a shirt. Snape resisted the smirk that threatened to spread over his lips, but pushed it away, strangely feeling cheated by the fact that he wasn't able to display his amusement at the boy's embarrassment.

He glanced sideways as Lupin lets out a slight chuckle, unrestricted by a cruel persona and able to show his feelings without worry. Potter appeared very reluctant to look at his old professor, and kept his eyes on his lap, still a nice shade of magenta on his face.

Almost reluctantly, Snape found himself unable to resent the boy as much as he did only the previous afternoon, now knowing what he did about his unsavoury home life. He'd always though the Boy Wonder was a spoiled and arrogant delinquent … but the boy before him was rather soft-spoken and unusually shy. A far cry from the image he displayed during the schooling months.

Potter was speaking again, in that voice, so unlike what he was used to hearing, telling Albus about how he had healed so suddenly. Snape took a moment to scrutinize the boy again, realizing that it was true. He had healed all noticeable injuries and bruising … the only one remaining being the wound on his shoulder.

Grimacing inwardly at the image of Potter throwing himself in front of his crazed Uncles weapon, Snape chanced another look at the boys face … only to find the gaze — seemingly now more intense, now that his eyes were no longer hidden by his glasses — locked with his own once more. Immediately, Snape knew that the boy's thoughts rested on that night as well … and seemed to also be unwilling to broach upon it in the near future; something he was only too willing to comply with.

Breaking the contact, Snape listened as his heart hammered against his chest, listening to Albus telling Potter how there was something they needed to tell him. Privately, Snape cursed the old man, for making him divulge the information he'd gathered so many years ago, in such a blunt manner. This wouldn't be easy for _anyone _to adjust to, let alone a boy who'd been treated the way he had for so long … and that was on top of all that had happened to him during his years at the school.

Snape focused on the matter at hand, as he saw Potter sit up suddenly, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion, fear … and resentment? His attention was so focused, that he ignored the sheets uncovering his torso again, leaning forward, asking what had been withheld.

Both Dumbledore and Lupin fixed their gazes upon him, expecting him to step forward and resume the discussion. Potters eyes had also fixated on him again, and strangely, Snape felt almost intimidated by the hard glare he was receiving from his … son.

"Professor?" Potter asked, a look of mild surprise, along with an expression that screamed, _"Of course he would know…"_

Hesitantly, Snape fixed his features in the familiar, indifferent mask, and stepped forward, bringing himself to the front of the group, and right next to Potters bedside.

***

Harry forced his breathing to steady, and swallowed the large lump that appeared in his throat, as Professor Snape stepped from behind Dumbledore and Remus, stopping by his side. Hesitantly, he brought his eyes to meet those of the potions master, feeling a small sense of confusion at the seemingly conflicting emotions he could see in the obsidian eyes.

Masking his features as best he could, Harry steadied his breathing and tried to appear relaxed and, almost, unconcerned by what Snape had to say to him. Though inwardly, Harry was scowling at the fact that the Slytherin knew something about himself that had been hidden from him initially.

__

Surprise, surprise… he thought, feeling his distaste for the man in front of him increase considerably.

Snape seemed to hesitate, but soon drew his wand, making Harry flinch involuntarily, and proceeded to summon a chair for him to sit on. As Harry shook off the sudden jolt of irrational fear, Snape turned his head towards Remus and Dumbledore, telling them to leave them alone, with the merest glance.

Harry had no time to decipher the meaning of the silent message, before Dumbledore turned to Remus and speaking clearly, "Remus, would you care to accompany me, to assist my arrangements of the next Order meeting?"

Remus nodded almost immediately; his eyebrows disappearing into his fringe. "Absolutely Albus! No time like the present! Harry, Severus," he nodded to the pair in farewell. "I'll see you both later."

"Gentlemen," Dumbledore's beard was twitching, and Harry saw Snape shoot an almost contemptuous glare at the older wizard. If Dumbledore had seen it, he ignored it, and mimicked Remus, nodding to them both in turn, before swivelling and striding purposefully away in Remus's wake.

Snape didn't turn back to face Harry until Dumbledore had closed the double doors behind him, only to scowl up at Madame Pomfrey, who had been standing by watching the proceedings silently.

"If you would excuse us, Poppy?" said Snape, his voice not hinting at any malice or dislike, as Harry was accustomed to hearing. He even sounded polite. "Mr Potter and I have some important matters to discuss."

The Matron pursed her lips and glanced between the two of them rapidly, before finally agreeing, so long as Harry got a descent amount of rest, and wasn't worked up too much.

Snape watched as she marched back to her office and closed the door, before finally returning his gaze to the young man in the bed beside him.

Harry, for a moment, was quite unsure of how to behave around Snape at present; seeing how he'd been the politest he'd ever seen him in the last four years, during the past four minutes. Yes, he was still a Greasy Bastard, but currently, he was an indifferently _pleasant_ … Greasy Bastard. And when Snape had first stepped forward, Harry was _sure _he had seen some small semblance of concern and — almost alarmingly — _compassion_. Directed towards himself, no less.

Before Harry could sort out the jumbled up messages and signals in his mind, Snape quietly started to speak, drawing his attention back towards the task at hand. What was happening to him, and why…

"All right Potter," Snape started abruptly, his voice carrying the coldness and indifference that Harry was so accustomed to hearing. "I'll get straight to the point then. The reason you have been healing at an incredible rate, and the mild differences in your appearance and body structure have started, is because you are what is known to the wizarding world as an Avatar."

Harry stared at the potions master, completely at a loss as to what the man had just said. "A what?" he asked, bewilderment plastered to his sharper features.

"An Avatar, Potter. Use your ears."

"Professor, I haven't got the faintest idea what an … an Avatar even is? I've never heard of them before?"

Snape scowled at him thoroughly. "Well then maybe you should learn to read, Potter. Avatars are mentioned briefly in the book entitled: _The rise and fall of the Dark Arts._ I'm sure Miss Granger will have mentioned it to you at least once in the past five years." Harry nodded sheepishly. "Very well then. Seeing as you've no clue what I am referring to, I shall explain. Do not interrupt me, Potter."

Feeling a little curious, and more than a little concerned, Harry nodded his head, telling Snape to explain what he meant, and that he wouldn't interrupt.

"An Avatar, Potter," Snape began, delving into his Professor demeanour almost instantly, "is what we – meaning the Magical Community – remember as being one of the nearest things that would have given Voldemort unchallenged domination, when he first started his campaign of terror around twenty years ago. In the beginning, Voldemort wanted absolute personal power. Immortality and the like. You have seen the results of the many transformations he had performed on himself to attain that goal … but he could never go as far as he wanted.

"You see … before Voldemort performed an alteration on himself, he would test it on his death eaters, making sure it did as he desired, and that it would not hurt him in the process. However, he soon learned that the human body could only withstand so much. When Voldemort neared the powers he desired the most, he discovered that the body simply couldn't handle the sudden influx of immense power, and it exploded … burnt up.

"Initially, Voldemort was in a raging fury at having his ultimate perfection snatched from him … but soon, he thought along a different line, and tried experimenting on ways for the human body to cope with the immense powers he wanted it to hold. Many of the first test subjects died … quite horrifically … and the Dark Lord's patience was wearing thin. But then he thought of a new concept.

"He theorised, that the only reason the past tests had been failures, was because they were born and grown, with their bodies already accustomed with a certain amount of magical energy, and it had adjusted to that only … unable to cope with much more. So he believed that if a baby was conceived with these immense powers already infused with it's being, than it would grow and develop to accommodate for it all. It would be born with the ability to use all these powers, and not risk a magical explosion. Thereby constructing the Elite of his followers … even higher than the Deatheaters.

"On Halloween, seventeen years ago, Voldemort sent out some of his Death Eaters to kidnap a certain number of women at random. I did not go out with them, because I was preparing the potions necessary to infuse these transformations. The other Deatheaters returned, and all the women were charmed by Voldemort himself, with some of the ancient spells he had used on himself. My potion was given to those Deatheaters present … and then they were ordered to rape them."

Snape paused, momentarily unable to continue due to the tightness in his throat at the memory of who he had taken that night. He chanced a good look at Harry, and saw that he was a great deal paler than he was before he'd started his explanation, and that his green eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them before … and they began to shine with a horrifying understanding, as what he was saying fell into place. Snape saw the very slight trembling in Harry's hands, and knew that he had to finish this part of the story before the boy snapped.

"Now, you have to understand, Potter, that the women, as soon as they arrived at our Camp, were put under powerful glamour charms. We had no idea who was taken and not. The only one who knew that was Voldemort himself. Well, naturally, nine months later, the only four that had conceived were born … and it has just come to light that you were one of them."


	10. Denial

****

Chapter Ten: Denial

Harry sat, stock still and horrified at Snape's finishing statement. He had begun to fear what he was telling him near the very start of his story, and it soon was replaced with acute denial. Harry felt his breathing begin to speed up without his approval, his hands trembled and his throat burned. It couldn't be true! This is just a nightmare! He'll wake up any moment now … any moment … 

"Potter? Are you listening to me?"

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes gradually focused on Professor Snape, who was still sitting in front of him, though now he was leaning forward, appearing almost concerned. As though in a daze, Harry looked around him, his mind telling him that this was real.

__

But, if it is _real … then my father isn't my real father?_ Harry thought suddenly, a sense of revulsion and horror sweeping though his body and mind like nothing he'd ever felt before. _My mother was _raped! _My father is a Deatheater!_

"Oh my God!" Harry gasped, his breath hitching as he struggled to keep his breathing steady. "I – I'm one of _His!!_ He – he _made me!_" Harry stopped suddenly and swung his eyes to meet Snape's. "But he tried to kill me!" he spluttered, running his hand through his hair and sitting up further. "If I was something he made then why would he do that?"

"Quite simply, Potter," said Snape, eyeing him down as though studying him. "The Avatar's were soon seen to be too powerful, and unsatisfactorily uncontrollable. So Voldemort set out to destroy you all before your powers began to manifest fully. He caught the first three in more than enough time. The Avatar's weren't meant to start developing their more potent powers until about your age … the speed of the transformation determining the power of the Avatar. You, however, had already developed one of an Avatar's most powerful abilities, by the time the Dark Lord had tracked you down … unbeknownst to him … and had already begun to show the physical appearance that an Avatar would have.

"By the mere fact that your powers were showing by the age of one, and your appearance was changing already, I won't even ponder on the power you could wield at your fingertips, Potter. But the ability you had developed already, by the age of one, was the ability to absorb any and all spells that strike you, when desired … momentarily increasing your magical and physical strength. Before you ask, Potter, no. Lily wouldn't have known that you already possessed this power … but her sacrifice was still needed to reflect the Avada Kadavra back onto Voldemort. It was also because of this incident, that I believe is why you've not demonstrated your powers before now…"

"Why's that, Sir?" Harry asked softly, still too awed and horror struck at the same time to speak any louder, or say any more in general.

"As you were only one, Potter," said Snape, leaning back in the small chair, "I doubt you would have had any control over your powers or abilities. I believe that when you were hit by the Killing Curse, you unconsciously burned up most of your magical energy and used it to greatly magnify the efficiency of the Curse … which would explain why Voldemort's body – despite all of the magical alterations – was utterly destroyed in the aftermath; your unintentional enhancements creating such a force that your home, in Godric's Hollow was also destroyed. Your magical reserves have only now replenished enough for your transformation and abilities to resurface, and even in this weakened state, your changes are happening rapidly."

"How is it that you know all of this, Sir?" Harry asked, frowning up at the Potions Master, though still feeling a physical sickness at how he'd come into existence and why. "You said that you only just found out I was an – an Avatar. How do you know that's the way things could have happened?"

"Because I was the one that had to know absolutely everything about what Voldemort wanted the potions I had to brew for the ceremony for. I needed to know the powers, how they would work, how they would manifest, how those powers would effect the body they were infused with. These idea's are only theory on my part … but then, aside from Voldemort himself, I am the only other person that knows the workings of an Avatar to the extent I do."

Harry nodded … still feeling ill and shocked at what he'd been told. He knew that he didn't fully comprehend what Snape had told him so far … but tomorrow was another story. He will have plenty of time to dwell on all this information, and he wasn't looking forward to letting it all sink in.

"You said that the "Magical Community" knew what an Avatar was, Sir," Harry started, risking a glance at Snape's face for an instant before returning his eyes to his lap. "Does that mean that almost everyone has heard of them, even though they were supposedly killed off, and that they knew who they were originally made for?"

Harry looked up again and waited for Snape to answer.

"That's correct, Potter," he answered eventually, though his smooth voice seemed strangely comforting at present. "If anyone was to discover what you are …" he left the statement unfinished, and Harry knew that he didn't need to finish it. He would be shunned … hated … tossed aside by the very people who praise him for bringing about the supposed destruction of his very own creator.

"You – you also mentioned that an Avatar's powers effect it's body, Sir?" Harry stumbled slightly, but Snape appeared to ignore it. "How would it change me?"

Snape shifted in his chair and scratched his chin. "That's something that I find strange with you, Mr Potter," he answered. "With your powers beginning to manifest again, your physical characteristics should have picked up where they left off. But there is no change in you other than your stature and build … and some of your facial structure. Your appearance should have changed much more dramatically than that by now…? Not only that, but you should have displayed the alterations you gained by the time you were one … yet you still look completely human…"

Harry stared at the wall opposite for a while, before deciding to voice his next question. "Why do I look like my Dad, if he wasn't my father, Professor?"

Harry saw a shadow flicker behind Snape's cool expression, before it vanished as though it was never there, intriguing him to no end. What had caused that shadow to emerge in the icy Potions Master and why? Was it something he had said? Harry immediately set about going over what he'd said in the last couple of minutes, but before he could get anywhere, Snape was answering his question.

"You look like James Potter because your Mother gave you a very powerful Appearance Altering Potion when you were an infant. So strong in fact, that it's lasted not quite sixteen years. In a few days, it will have worn off completely, and you will look as you were meant to. It's already started to fade, which is why your hair has grown overnight, along with small changes to your facial and body structure."

"Do you know who my father is, Professor?" Harry blurted out before le lost the nerve. He knew that Snape had already told him that none of them knew who had taken whom … but maybe there was a chance? Almost instantly however, all of Harry's hope's were dashed and replaced with near terror, as Snape threw him an expression of absolute rage, before leaping from his chair with such a force it was knocked over, and stepping forward, bringing himself to the very edge of Harry's bed, looming over him, oblivious to the panicked expression on his face and violent tremors in his thin frame.

"I've already told you, Potter, that we didn't know who was taken nor by whom!" spat Snape venomously, making Harry cringe backwards, his breathing extremely rapid and ragged. "How the hell am I supposed to know who your father is, boy? Not that I actually give a damn! Your father could have been Lucius Malfoy for all I know!"

Snape stopped, still leering over Harry menacingly, and still ignorant of his panicked state … though at the last statement his pallid tone became, if possible, even paler than before, giving him a greenish hue. Slowly steadying his breathing, Snape straightened up and attempted to regain his composure, and appearing almost apologetic of his outburst.

Harry, however, was still curled up at the top of the bed, pressed against the headboard in a futile attempt to put more space between himself and the Potions Master. He was still shaking uncontrollably and breathing quickly, seemingly unable to stop the terror that had overtaken him at such an acute reminder of his Uncle. Harry had his eyes squeezed closed and his knees pulled to his chest, trying to banish the painful images that swam over his vision, of the many treatments he'd received from Vernon in the past.

Suddenly, a firm grip closed about Harry's shoulder, pushing him to his breaking point. In a heartbeat, Harry had ripped his arm from the person's grip and thrown off the bed sheets, landing in a pile on the opposite side of the bed and scrambling away, pressing himself against the stone wall in an effort to hide himself.

Vaguely, through the rushing in his ears, and the deafening pounding of his heart, Harry could hear someone speaking his name, calling out to him gently. Slowly, Harry's breathing steadied, following the voiced instructions, and began to relax. _Vernon wasn't there_ Harry thought, his mind beginning to clear up. _ You're at Hogwarts. Nothing's going to hurt you…_

Feeling worn out, and breathing heavily, Harry opened his eyes, to find himself staring into the onyx eyes of professor Snape, who was currently kneeling beside him and looking strangely worried. The expression lasted only a moment though, before the normal blank mask was back in place.

Snape stood swiftly and continued to stare down at Harry, though without the menacing glare he would have expected at this time, before slowly extending a hand palm upwards, in offering.

Hesitantly, Harry took it and allowed the Professor to assist him in standing, not daring to look him in the eyes after losing control so easily in front of him. He was waiting for the embarrassing jibes and insults to fly, but they never came.

"I apologize for my outburst, Mr Potter," said Snape, sounding regretful. "I didn't mean to cause you such distress … but your question touched upon a sensitive subject. That doesn't excuse my actions I know, but you needed to know the reasons behind them."

Harry nodded his understanding and looked away, feeling quite ashamed of his panic attack. As he looked at the floor, Harry noticed again that he was still shirtless, but that realization went by the wayside, as he saw that the ground was further away than normal.

Startled, Harry looked up at Snape, who seemed to have noticed his confusion, and discovered that he no longer came to the man's shoulder anymore. More accurately, he was now not quite eye to eye with him … and Severus Snape stood at around six foot two.

"It seems I was inaccurate with my earlier prediction, Mr Potter," Snape was also looking Harry up and down, taking in the new proportions. "You didn't get just a _bit_ taller. You grew about six inches."

Harry was dazed and stared back at Snape with wide eyes, when suddenly a flash of pain tore through him, setting his bones on fire as he fell to his knees, crying out as the pain intensified around his feet and face.

Distantly, he could hear Snape saying his name, but he couldn't respond. He couldn't move. The agony spiked again, but Harry grit his teeth against the scream welling in his tight throat. He could feel the bones and muscles in his feet bend and shift, but had no idea what was happening. The same sensation permeated his face, as he felt his teeth shift and change, along with his ears and something on his forehead.

Finally, the pain subsided and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, only to suck in a sudden breath, and slap his hand over his face, as his eyes burned white hot in their sockets for a moment; the pain from it too, vanishing eventually along with the rest.

Harry groaned softly and made to stand again, feeling a supporting arm grasp him around the waist.

"Professor?" Harry gasped at the sound of his voice. It was a deep and rumbling baritone, possessing something of a silkiness about it. Surprised, and standing unsteadily on unfamiliar feeling feet, Harry opened his eyes and let out a yelp of alarm, just as the person beside him sucked in a surprised breath.

As Harry let his eyes roam about the Ward, the world seemed a foreign place. His vision was no longer as it used to be. A myriad of colourful vapour seemed to fill the Ward, and some of the items in the room seemed to glow with an intense light, varying in colour and power. Not only that, but the actual physical items and furniture, all looked like they were made of shadow … but he could still see the details in white, as though the world was made of black and white, and his own vision had been inverted.

"Professor, what's going on?" Harry hated how this powerful voice was reduced to a panicky squeak, but currently he couldn't care. He turned to look at his Professor just as his arm left his side, and found himself almost amused by what he saw if it weren't for his current anxiety.

Professor Snape now looked as though he was dressed in the whitest of robes, along with his hair (which now also appeared white). Everything that was dark was now pale, and visa versa. His face seemed to be the blackest of black, while his eyes and eyebrows were white. And not only that, but there was a huge aura of colour surrounding the Potions Master.

At the moment though, Harry's eyes were focused on the expression his Professor wore. It was one of supreme alarm, mixed with what he saw as fear; the colour and pattern of the aura surrounding him telling him the same thing.

"What happened to me?!!" Harry shouted, taking a step towards Snape; his feet feeling alien. Without waiting for an answer, Harry looked down at himself, seeing normal colouring instead of the inverted ones of the world around him. What made him blanch, however, was the state of his feet. Each was now endowed with two inch claws on the three large toes he possessed; now shaped so that he could only stand on the ball of the foot, with knees slightly bent in order to stay balanced. His heels had grown backwards a little, and an inch long claw protruded from them as well.

Harry looked up and glanced around him wildly, praying that his sight would return to what he knew any moment. His breathing roared in his ears, making every other sound mute. He could see Snape's mouth moving, but Harry ignored him. Wanting desperately to see what had happened to him, Harry swivelled and darted towards the doors, unaware that as Snape moved to block him, he swung an arm and connected with his chest, sending the man flying across the room and colliding with the floor sickeningly.

Harry leapt over the bed beside him and darted forward, hearing Madame Pomfrey's voice shrieking behind him, but not knowing where it was directed. Hitting the double doors at a dead sprint, they flew open with a deafening crash, almost being ripped from their hinges from the force of the blow.

In a panic, Harry sprinted down the hallway with uncanny speed in search for anything that gave a reflection. He darted down the side corridors towards the nearest bathroom, splintering the door as he collided with it, hurling himself toward the nearest mirror.

***

"Severus! Severus, are you alright?"

Snape opened his eyes groggily, grimacing as he was helped to sit up, feeling his body ache all over. He looked around as Poppy started to check him over, seeing the huge oak doors of the Hospital Wing all but torn from their frames.

"Where is he, Poppy?" he rasped, struggling to stand against the Matron's wishes. "Where did he go? Did you see him?"

"Who, Severus?" she snapped impatiently, her hands on her hips. "If you mean that strange looking creature that splintered my doors, then he tore out of here in a right hurry. Did he do this to you?" Poppy took a quick glance around the ward. "Where's Mr Potter? He should be in bed!"

Snape ignored her and started towards the door, determined to find the boy and calm him down. He was obviously in a panic, confused by what was happening to him. He himself had been alarmed when Potter had collapsed before him, only to see his feet mutate into clawed horrors, and see a pair of small horns sprout from his brow, following his scull and curving backwards. His skin had turned a shade of silver, his ears grew upwards and tapered into a point, and his muscles had filled out some more, not to mention growing another two inches in height. He spoke, and Snape caught sight of a set of vicious fangs on his top and bottom dentures.

He had instinctively helped the boy stand, but he couldn't hold in his gasp of uncontained surprise mixed with horror, when he opened his eyes. They were perhaps even more eerie than the Dark Lords. His eyes had turned black, his iris was without a pupil … and it was glowing emerald green. He'd seen these sinister eyes dart frantically around the room, search over him briefly, before catching sight of his own body and bolting.

Snape knew that he hadn't intended to strike a blow on him, and that it was a reflex action, especially in the state he was in … but that didn't stop him from being rather annoyed.

"Where are you going, Severus?" Poppy demanded suddenly, just as he reached the doors. "You could be injured!"

Snape whirled to shoot out a retort, but didn't get there as an animalistic scream echoed through the hallways, making Snape cringe with the emotions clearly heard in the shriek. It was a mix of a roar, an ear splitting shriek, and a human scream, all projecting the absolute horror and revulsion the creature was feeling at that moment.

"What on earth was that, Severus?" Poppy's shaky voice spoke up tremulously, almost on the verge of tears as the emotions that travelled with the shriek enveloped her.

"That was Harry," Snape answered, shuddering as the turbulent emotions washed over him, not realizing he'd referred to Harry by his first name.

Poppy stared at Snape, speechless for a moment as the news sank in. "That was _Harry?_" she breathed, taking a small step in the direction of the anguished cry, as though believing it was something she could heal. "What on earth _happened_ to him?!!!"

"That would be a question best answered by the Headmaster, Poppy," Snape explained shortly, mimicking Poppy's earlier movement and heading towards the origin of the scream, though he wasn't stopping. "If Albus should arrive, tell him I am heading for the second or third floor bathrooms on this side of the castle!" he yelled over his shoulder. "And tell him that Harry has just reached Stage One!!"

He didn't even wait for Poppy to acknowledge that she had heard, before he tore off down the hallways as fast as he could go, unknowingly beginning to pray that his son was alive and well…


	11. Discoveries

****

Chapter Eleven: Discoveries

Remus jumped so badly as he wrote out an outline for the next Order meeting, that he spilt the ink all over the yellow parchment, his hands flying to his ears as his sensitive hearing was pierced by a glass shattering shriek, followed almost instantly with an intense and overwhelming revulsion of self, bringing tears to his eyes unwittingly.

Stumbling to his feet, he turned to Dumbledore, who seemed to have been effected in near the same way by the scream; only he didn't need to block his ears. The headmaster only spared him a brief glance, before he dashed out of Remus's office, the werewolf hot on his heels, heading straight for the hospital Wing.

"What on earth was that, Albus?" Remus managed to get out between breaths, glancing at the headmaster out of the corner of his eye. "I've never felt anything like that before? Did you feel it too?"

Albus nodded. "I did indeed, Remus," he replied, turning a corner and heading down one staircase to the Hospitals floor. "And as to what it was … I believe it was Mr Potter…"

"Harry?" Remus was both shocked and appalled by the statement. "What would make him scream like that? And how would he do it in the first place?"

He saw Albus shake his head slightly as he turned down the last corridor, not answering as he stopped dead at the sight of the huge Ward doors half hanging from their hinges in front of him.

"What on earth?" Remus muttered, striding forward, just behind Albus, who had started to jog down towards the Ward.

They rounded the ruined doors to find the room all but empty, save for Madame Pomfrey, who was now striding towards them.

"Poppy, where are Severus and Mr Potter?" Albus asked immediately, his eyes training over the bed Harry had occupied a few minutes beforehand.

Poppy seemed to be quite flustered and upset, but she still answered with a strong voice.

"Severus left right after we heard that awful scream. He told me to tell you that Mr Potter had reached Stage One … whatever that's supposed to mean. I think I saw Mr Potter as well, if I'm to believe what Severus told me. I saw some large creature running out of the Ward just after I heard some yelling. I found Severus on the ground, apparently having been struck by this creature; he told me that the creature was Harry…"

Poppy trailed off, and Albus nodded, shooting a concerned glance towards the doors that lead to the hallway.

"Albus, what's going on?" Poppy asked quietly, her skin looking quite pale. "I asked Severus, but he told me to ask you."

"I will answer your questions in time, Poppy, but at the moment I would like you to tell me where Severus was heading?" Dumbledore replied apologetically, though he was already turning toward the doors again, intending to head out even if it was without instruction.

Poppy was obviously miffed by this arrangement, but didn't complain as she informed the Headmaster of what Snape had told her, about heading towards the bathrooms in the area.

Dumbledore thanked her graciously and hastily left the Ward, Remus close behind. Silently, they both strode through the halls, checking all the nearest bathrooms as they went, only to come up empty handed in all. Anxiety growing, they got to the boys bathrooms on the third floor, eliminating two from the search before they came across one with a splintered door.

Shooting a brief glance at each other, both Dumbledore and Remus jogged the remaining yards and rounded the doorframe, skidding to a halt at what they saw.

The room had been close to demolished. Mirrors were shattered; the shards littered about the wet floor; a number of stalls had been splintered into nothingness; some of the porcelain sinks on the opposite wall had been ripped from their housing, leaving the broken piping to spray their water about the room.

The most prominent sight, however, was that of Severus Snape kneeling beside, who Dumbledore suspected, was Harry … in his newest guise. If not for the current seriousness of the situation, Dumbledore would have called the scene almost sweet. Snape currently had his hand on Harry's brow, checking his temperature via Muggle means rather that his wand. Not only that, but what made the scene so different, was that Harry's head was currently cradled in the Potion Masters free arm in an almost tender fashion.

Taking a quick sideways glance at Remus; who for his part was staring blatantly at the pair on the floor, Albus quickly stepped forward and knelt on the opposite side that Snape was occupying.

"How is he, Severus?" Albus made sure his voice was quiet, for he didn't want to startle him in any fashion, lest he accidentally hurt Harry in the process.

Snape looked up at Dumbledore for a moment, before returning his attention to the form cradled in his arms, still making sure that his health was of satisfactory standard before attempting to shift him back to the Hospital Wing.

"He doesn't seem to have sustained any major injuries, apart from some surreptitious cuts along his hands and arms; though they seem to be healing already." He pointed at Harry's hands and arms, correctly diagnosing the small slashes as half healed. "Apart from that however, I don't believe he is physically unwell, barring his sudden exhaustion, and the shock from his most recent experience…" he trailed off, eyes lingering on the newest additions to the Golden Boys features, a spark of something like sorrow glimmering until snuffed out by the mask of indifference again. "I require some assistance in moving him back to the Hospital Wing."

Dumbledore nodded and stood with Severus, pointing his wand at Harry's unconscious form at the same time as Snape, and casting the levitating charm … only to see both his own and Severus's spell turn into a soft glow, before seeping into Harry's silvery skin. It had no effect.

"What the hell?" Remus muttered, though he was ignored by the two others standing. Dumbledore creased his brow in thought, but Snape simply cursed under his breath.

"I had thought that your assistance, Albus, might have overpowered Harry's defences just enough for the charm to work on him … but as he isn't conscious, he can't allow the spell to work on him willingly." He sighed heavily, staring down at the newly awakened Avatar, before his gaze swivelled suddenly to Remus. "Get out your wand, Lupin," Snape demanded non-too politely. "Maybe your booster to the charm will do what Dumbledore and I couldn't on our own?"

Shaking physically from the slight daze that had swamped him at the sight of Harry's vastly different body, Remus obediently drew his wand and cast the levitating charm alongside Dumbledore and Snape …… with no change in result. Harry still lay on the chipped and broken tiled floor.

"How are we going to move him then?" Remus asked, looking Harry up and down, estimating him to now weigh no less than one hundred and seventy pounds, most likely more, what with the sudden bulkiness he'd acquired.

Without another word being spoken, Remus was stunned speechless as Snape put his wand back into his robes, before bending down and awkwardly lifting Harry from the floor, fumbling for a few moments as he got him steady in his arms. As soon as Harry was settled, Snape stepped from the room, apparently quite capable of carrying Harry all the way to the Ward.

"You know, I could have made him a stretcher," Dumbledore whispered quietly into Remus's ear, smiling benignly. "But he'd already picked Mr Potter up from the floor before I could suggest it. I would call that something like a shining star of hope … wouldn't you?" With that, Dumbledore left and followed Snape, who had already vanished around the first corner. Remus took a few more moments before registering what Dumbledore had just told him. 

Snape cared … at least a little … and that at least was a step in the right direction in accepting Harry Potter as his son.

***

Night had long fallen, casting its shadows throughout the deathly silent Hospital Wing, where two occupants rested side by side. Madame Pomfrey had long since returned to her sleeping quarters, trusting the brooding and sourly Potions Master to keep vigilance over her sleeping charge.

Snape was still in the same place he was when the Matron had finished giving Harry a quick running over, declaring that he was merely exhausted, and required a good nights sleep.

Snape had seen Poppy's reaction when she got her first good look at Harry's new endearments, and he could tell she felt a great deal of pity … for his son. Poppy had tried to get him to leave, but something in him demanded that he stay. And stay he did, refusing to sleep lest something happened while he was unprepared and unsuspecting.

The young man before him stirred slightly, and Snape sat upright … but soon Harry settled again, his breathing deep and steady. Letting out the breath he'd been unaware he was holding, Snape leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees, studying the features of the boy he thought he knew, in a thin beam of moonlight that crept though the high windows, illuminating the silver skin in such a way that it seemed to shine and glimmer.

It was almost an unearthly glow surrounding the sleeping form. An invisible aura that projected the power he possessed. Snape knew that he had another bout of explaining to do, especially after what had happened that afternoon, but this time, Snape didn't feel so irked by the idea. He merely accepted the fact as something he had to do, almost dismissing his previous bias that the boy was a _Gryffindor._

Twisting his lip though, Snape thought about the way his son's initial transformation had come about. It had been quite painful, if how Harry had behaved was anything to go by … and it made Snape ponder on how the next developments might show themselves. He knew that his physical body still had some changing to do … but what of his magical development? Knowing that with the first change came the first magical influx, Snape was curious to know just how strong Harry was now, in the magical sense. He already knew he was rather strong, and that was before the change … so how would he be now?

Snape smirked in the darkness, as a sudden picture of Harry having a mock skirmish with Dumbledore flashed across his minds eye. That would be an interesting sight … but not only that. Harry would gain even more raw magical strength when his body finally adjusts to his new power fully. When Harry arrives at his final form, he would most probably be able to defeat Dumbledore in a real duel with ease. Leaning forward again, Snape covered his mouth as he continued to study his son, realizing for the first time, just how frightening an idea that would be … 

Leaning back in his chair again, Snape shook his head, knowing that if he would trust anyone with such abilities, it would be the boy before him. Harry would never abuse the new powers he would have access to, and the idea strangely afforded him some kind of comfort.

A sharp noise behind him made Snape startle, turning in his seat to see the cause of his disturbance. Almost immediately, Snape was out of his chair, swiftly making his way towards the person approaching him, careful to remain silent so as to not disturb Harry's rest.

"What do you want, Lupin?" he asked, whisper quiet though no less venomous. "Surely whatever it is could have waited until tomorrow?" Snape threw a significant look towards Harry's sleeping form, before turning back to see Remus's eyes resting on the changed boy as well.

"I suppose it could have waited for tomorrow, Severus," Remus replied just as quietly. "But, I wanted to tell you now, that I have finished the letter for the Order, and have just sent it off." He looked back at Snape evenly, pausing for a moment, then taking a breath. "I told them – "

"If you told all of them anything about what happened here, they're going to want him to join without a second thought!" Snape interrupted, raising his voice unintentionally. "Tell me you at least had enough sense to leave out who Harry's father is…"

Remus didn't speak for a few moments, but looked at Harry again, then returning his eyes to the Potions Master.

"If you would let me finish what I was saying… Severus…" he said calmly, "I told the other members … nothing of what happened here this afternoon, and didn't even pass mention of who Harry's father could possibly be. I know you told us you didn't want to reveal that information, and I will respect that request, until I deem it necessary that Harry needs to know. If he becomes distressed in any way, due to not knowing, I will tell you first, so you can let him know. But if you don't … I will."

Remus held Snape's cold glare for only an instant, before whirling around and marching back out of the Ward, leaving the other staring at where he had been standing … neither noticing a pair of glowing green eyes blinking in the darkness.


	12. A Morning Talk

****

Chapter Twelve: A Morning Talk

Harry awoke again the following morning, remembering the quiet conversation that had taken place between Snape and Remus. What had they been referring to? They had been too far away to hear all of what was said, and that fact irritated him to no end. He blinked a few times, ridding the sleep from his eyes, before turning his eyes sideways and seeing Snape still sitting vigilantly by his side … though now, he was sleeping soundly.

He lay still for a time, staring at the still strange hues and colours that drifted lazily in the air, trying to read their meaning, with little success. He supposed it would make sense to him in time. The large and powerful aura that cloaked the Potions Master was also a mystery to Harry, and the way the world appeared in inverted greyscale was even more nerve-racking. It all served to remind him of what had happened the previous afternoon.

Sighing lightly, Harry looked around, seeing that himself and Snape were alone in the Ward, and decided to go and wash up for the morning. Quietly throwing the covers off, Harry averted his eyes from the sight of his mutated feet and slipped out of bed, feeling the muscles in his legs shift and move in a way that he'd never felt before. He could feel the tightly leashed power and strength that flowed with every movement, as he walked with an unnatural grace towards the bathroom; the claws on his large toes clicking softly on the stone floor.

Averting his eyes from the mirror, Harry bent over the basin and washed his face, cringing as his fingers made contact with the horns that now protruded from his brow. Gingerly, Harry ran his fingers over them, feeling the small ridges as he slid up the curved bone. Bowing his head, Harry felt his long hair fall about his face, as he leant against the white porcelain, relishing the coolness against the palms of his hands.

Why him? Why did the fates always decide to take their vengeance out on him? Harry scrunched up his eyes as he felt a wash of heat enveloped them, swallowing down the sudden tightness in his throat. Sucking in a deep and shuddering breath, Harry opened his eyes, clenching his jaw as he saw a bright green glow reflecting from the shiny basin below him. Averting his eyes, Harry instead looked at his arm, barely realizing that it had practically doubled in diameter, showing the taught muscles magnificently. Anything other than another sign relating to his hideousness.

Unbidden, the image that Harry had seen when he first looked at his reflection, after fleeing the infirmary, flashed into his mind, bringing with it the horror and revulsion he had felt at the sight. His skin was a gleaming silver, crowned with two horns just above each black eyebrow, each a bronze hue; they curved back in perfect streamline with his head, kicking up at the ends, highlighted by the shining black hair that was seemingly fixed, slicked back, only allowing the long trestles free movement. 

His ears reached the top of his head, tapering elegantly into a point at the tip, enhancing the sharpness of his cheekbones and jaw line. He remembered opening his mouth to issue a scream, seeing the set of lethal fangs adorning his top and bottom teeth, where his canine teeth had been beforehand …… But most of all, he remembered the sight of his eyes. The deepest black surrounded glowing green iris's, in which no pupil resided…

An animalistic growl issued from the back of Harry's throat, deep and rumbling with a physical resonance. He was an abomination, designed by his worst enemy for a life of death, destruction, and servitude. He was a creation from pain and terror, forced upon an unsuspecting woman in the vilest fashion. But more than that …… he was garbage. A piece of waste discarded after being found undesirable and unwanted by his maker. _No one_ wanted him. He was as useless as a piece of luggage, continually being passed from place to place when needed, only to be handed off as soon as his appeal waned.

He clenched his teeth against the tightness in his chest, forcing back the swell of emotion threatening to escape him. A sudden knocking at the door startled him from his introspection, standing upright and facing his reflection. He saw wetness on his cheeks and savagely wiped it away as another knock sounded on the wooden barrier.

"Go away," he called, trying unsuccessfully to keep the emotion from his deep voice. Grabbing a hand towel, Harry dried his face and hands, noticing that he was still only wearing his pyjama pants, when the soft knock echoed in the white (though it looked quite black in Harry's eyes) room.

"Mr Potter?"

Harry froze as Madame Pomfrey's voice drifted through the oak, a bite of impatience laced with concern projecting through the words. An unexplainable sensation of panic wrenched through Harry's chest, and he looked about him, deciding to dart into one of the toilet stalls and slamming the door shut before bolting it. She knocked again, calling his name, and this time Harry heard the door open. In a moment of shame and childishness, Harry threw the small towel he still clutched over his head, hiding his vileness from the aging lady that had helped him so many times.

"Mr Potter, are you all right?" Madame Pomfrey asked quietly as she knocked on Harry's stall door. "I need to do your morning check up, Mr Potter. Please come out into the Main Ward."

Harry sighed, knowing she wouldn't relent until she got her way. He allowed a small smile to grace his face, knowing she would remove the door and drag him out of there if she saw fit to. "Yes ma'am," he whispered, knowing she had heard him. He listened to her leave the bathroom, noting she left the door open for him to follow her. Sighing again, Harry deftly fixed the hand towel around his head, though keeping his vision free of obstruction, and slowly made his way out into the Ward, hugging himself self-consciously as the cool morning air bit at his bare torso.

"Are you trying for a new fashion statement, Potter?"

Harry winced at the sound of the Potion Masters obvious intent for the question. Why would he expect any different from the brooding and sour Slytherin? Harry looked towards Snape, hoping to project all of his loathing towards him in that single glare … but he knew that there was little point in trying to faze the hard man. Almost nothing got to him.

"That will do, Severus." Harry's stomach did a back flip. _Dumbledore?_ What was he here for? "No need to make the lad feel any worse than he does at present now, is there?"

Harry looked at the aged Headmaster, seeing him for the first time with the new way his eyes worked. His normally brilliant white beard and hair were black against the different shades of grey representing the colour on his robes. His fair skin was a darker shade of grey, but Harry could still see a kind smile on his wizened old face.

"Hello Professor Dumbledore," Harry's voice was muffled by the towel, but the headmaster still nodded his greetings, pointedly ignoring the timidness of his powerful voice.

"Good morning, Harry," he replied resting a hand on Harry's shoulder as he passed to sit on the bed. As he did so, Harry noticed that he was now taller than the headmaster, something he found strangely disconcerting. So many things had changed overnight. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine sir."

Dumbledore gazed at him for a moment, as though staring through the towel cocooning his face. Harry shifted uncomfortably, and Dumbledore thankfully relented his gaze. Madame Pomfrey began casting her routine spells, but Harry hardly noticed. He could still feel Dumbledore's eyes on him, but now he also detected those of the Potions Master. Unconsciously folding his arms to cover his torso, Harry felt the heat rise in his face, embarrassed from all the attention, and almost feeling ashamed of covering his face. It was such a childish gesture that he didn't really blame Snape for singling the move out.

"Harry?"

He looked up at Dumbledore, and exhaled heavily, nodding at the silent request in his eyes. Haltingly, he reached up and tugged on the towel, shutting his eyes shamefully as his face was revealed to those present. Breathing deeply, Harry pictured all their faces as they looked at him, shuddering as he saw only pictures of disgust and revulsion painted on the faces he respected so much. 

Well … except for Snape.

The silence that permeated the Ward was almost stifling. Madame Pomfrey had halted her examination and stood by silently, even though Harry couldn't see her. It seemed as though all of them had ceased to breathe.

"Open your eyes, Harry," Dumbledore's voice was soft and gentle, but Harry knew it was not a request. He hesitated only a moment, not wanting to actually see the horror in the old wizards eyes … but he reluctantly obeyed and looked up, feeling a swell of relief fill his chest at the sight of Dumbledore's kind and understanding eyes. There was no disgust or hate, as he had feared, and that knowledge that Dumbledore wouldn't abandon him was all he needed at the moment.

A small and genuine smile touched his lips, and he looked at the ground again, shaking his head at himself, feeling embarrassed by his earlier behaviour.

"Don't be ashamed of your feelings, Harry," said Dumbledore, as though reading his mind, as he'd done so many times over the years. "You have them, and are as entitled to experience them as anyone else is."

A stiff silence followed these words, with no one knowing exactly what to say. The situation was so unique ……

"You seem to have a clean bill of health, Mr Potter," Madame Pomfrey's crisp voice sprung up, clearly trying to rid her ward of the mutually uncomfortable air. "Not only have your wounds from your ordeal with your Uncle healed completely, but I would say that your overall health and fitness have _increased_ substantially."

Harry turned to look at her, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. Once again, Dumbledore seemed to be reading his mind, and asked the Matron what she meant by the statement.

"I mean exactly what I said, Albus," she answered. "Mr Potter's overall condition is much better than I've ever seen in a living being. His blood pressure is perfect, he's no longer malnourished, and his cardiovascular condition is almost unnatural. In short, Albus, Mr Potter's physical body is the quintessence of perfection."

A short silence reigned after her declaration, but it was soon broken when Harry looked up at her, saying, "You know, don't you? They told you … about me…"

"Yes we did, Potter," Snape's voice cut in, before the Matron could reply to the soft spoken query. "But what else would we do, when she would be the one to treat you? Of course she had to know about you."

Harry immediately cringed slightly at the condescending tone seeping through Snape's voice. "I'm sorry, sir … I didn't think of – "

"Do not apologize, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted gently, though he threw a pointed glance towards Snape in the process. "You're allowed to feel some confusion at present. Actually, I'm surprised you were perceptive enough to realize that in the first place. Now, you're probably wondering why I am here, Harry, so I'll get right to the point. Do you wish to tell Miss Granger and Mr Weasley of these new developments?"

Of all the things Harry thought Dumbledore was to talk to him about, that was not one of them. The suddenness of it caught him completely off guard. Did he want to tell them about him? About what he was, and how he was made? Would they accept him if he did?

A tightness settled in Harry's stomach at the thought of either Ron or Hermione turning away from him, because he wasn't human and created by the darkest wizard in a century. But … if they _did_ accept him, he would have someone to talk to about it. They would listen, and not be judgmental. They would understand … and he wouldn't have to hide all the time.

Hope started to brim inside of him, and an idea formed in his mind. If he was going to tell them, he didn't want to break it to them looking like some kind of monster.

"Yes Sir," Harry answered Dumbledore's question firmly. "I would like to tell Ron and Hermione … but … I don't want them to see me like this without them knowing first. Is there some way for you to change the way I look while I'm with them?"

"Actually, Potter," Snape spoke up again, but this time Dumbledore didn't seem to mind him speaking in his place. "There is a way for you to change your appearance. You can do it yourself."

Harry frowned. "How?"

"It's one of your powers, actually. You should be able to change your shape into almost anything you wish, when you reach your full potential … but at present, I see no reason why you couldn't change your general shape back to what it should be."

Harry grinned impulsively, unwittingly showing off his fangs for all to see. "You mean I don't _have_ to look like this? I can look like I used to?"

Dumbledore smiled along with him, and Snape's expression, expectedly, remained the same.

"Alright then, Harry, how does this sound?" Dumbledore started. "I will invite Mr Weasley and Miss Granger here, where you can tell them anything you wish … you don't have to tell them everything. While we wait for them to arrive, I will get Professor McGonagall to give you some ideas on shape shifting. She could give you some pointers, for obvious reasons. That also means I will have to inform her of recent developments…" he paused for a moment as Harry's grin faded. "Are you alright with that?"

Harry swallowed nervously. So many people knew of him, and this would add another. Then again, it was McGonagall, and she always had an open mind when it came to such things. That, and she was his Head of House, and would probably need to be told before the start of term anyway.

"Yes Sir," he replied, nodding his head. "That would be fine … but you might want to warn her about the way I look, before you get let her see me. She might have a heart attack." Harry shot Dumbledore a crooked grin at the last statement, letting him know he was having a go at himself.

Dumbledore smiled widely and stood from the bed he was sitting on, patting him on the shoulder as he did so.

"As you wish, Mr Potter. I'll go and inform Minerva of the situation, and then write to your friends. While you wait, why don't you go for a short walk? Stretch your legs, so to speak? I do believe that Remus is currently enjoying a brisk morning walk around the Lake…"

With that, Dumbledore swept out of the Infirmary, leaving Poppy and Snape alone with him yet again.

Scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably, Harry quickly turned towards the Matron and asked her if it was all right if he went out for the morning.

"Well, actually, Mr Potter," she answered, raising her eyebrows. "There is no reason to keep you here any longer, for you are in perfect health. You powers of rejuvenation have seen to that. I believe that Professor Dumbledore has planned to let you stay in the spare rooms near the Staff quarters, until Term begins."

She smiled and handed him a set of robes, saying that they had been enlarged, before wishing him a pleasant morning and leaving him with Snape.


	13. Surprise!

****

Chapter Thirteen: Surprise!

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the Potion Masters gaze, wishing he would go away so he could get out of his dreaded hospital pyjamas. Turning his back on him, Harry tried to stop the surge of anger that rushed through him, that was directed towards the tall wizard. If only he hadn't told him anything … but then, if he hadn't he wouldn't have the slightest idea what was happening to him. Using a different excuse almost immediately, Harry instead focused on the fact that Snape knew who his father was, but refused to tell him that information. And what was worse was that Remus knew as well! Why would they keep something like that from him?

__

Simple, a small voice in the back of his head snapped, rather coldly. _They think you can't deal with the fact that the man, who fathered you, is a Deatheater. _Harry snorted at the idea audibly, unknowing of the raised eyebrow Snape had shot at him silently at the sound. _Who do they think they are?_ _Who else knows?_

Harry shook his head, hating the confusion he felt at the situation. Everything was so muddled and blurred now; he didn't know what to think or who to take his frustration out on.

"Are you quite finished standing around, Mr Potter?" Snape's cool voice spoke up from behind him. "Even you can't wallow in self-pity all morning…"

Harry swivelled abruptly, now standing eye to eye with the Slytherin, though noticeably broader in the shoulder. His nose was barely three inches from the crooked one Snape possessed, and Harry was almost satisfied at the startled glint in the black (white to Harry) eyes, mixed with what he'd now discovered was alarm in the bright aura surrounding him.

"I am not wallowing, _Sir,_" Harry spat, seeing the green glow on Snape's face brighten a little, as his eyes grew brighter with his anger. "I was merely going over the lovely memories of the pleasant sleep I had last night. Tell me, Professor, how was your night?"

If it were possible, Snape's black skin got blacker, telling Harry that the Potion's master was an even more unhealthy shade of white. He grinned maliciously, knowing that Snape knew what he was talking about.

"Who else knows who my father is, Professor?" he asked suddenly, all traces of his grin vanishing as his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Who else refuses to tell me something of such little consequence? I already know that both you, and Remus hold this knowledge … so who else denies me the pleasure of a simple name that I can hate? I mean … my dear old Dad is a Deatheater! How could I possibly hate him even more than I would already?"

Harry held Snape's stunned, and surprisingly distressed, gaze, for only a second, before snarling (rather effectively now, considering his fangs and throaty growl) and snatching up the spare robes, _stalking_ into the bathroom, slamming the door shut loudly.

Harry paced back and forth, fuming more on the inside than he was currently showing on the out. He tossed the robes onto the small bench, before stopping in front of the mirror, determined to look at himself as he truly was meant to look … even though he didn't really care about that at this point. He hated how Snape could be so infuriating, so effortlessly. It seemed to be a natural talent he possessed!

Running a frustrated hand through his dead straight hair (not noticing how the hair shifted back into perfect placement afterwards), Harry finally stopped his pacing and changed, feeling much more comfortable and calmer in a normal set of clothing. He scowled as he spotted small tears near the collar of his shirt, knowing that his horns had caught on the material as he pulled it on. Tossing the dirty garments in the laundry, Harry paused for a moment before slowly opening the door, sighing in relief at the Snape-less Infirmary.

Quietly shutting the door, Harry made his way through the Infirmary, scowling at the fact that he could no longer wear any shoes, and reached out for the latch … pausing as Madame Pomfrey's voice called out to him from her open door.

"Mr Potter?" Harry turned to face her. "I noticed Professor Snape's mood after your little spate, and I thought I might tell you something you might not remember about yesterday."

"What?"

Harry stayed where he was, as Poppy quickly walked up to him, having to turn her gaze skyward in order to look him in the eye.

"Do you recall what happened after your initial transformation, while you were here, with Severus?"

Harry's forehead creased, searching his memories of that afternoon, when he looked back at the Matron in mild alarm, and a touch of shame.

"I threw him across the room … but I didn't mean to – "

"I know you didn't, Mr Potter," Poppy assured gently, waving the hurried apology aside. "That isn't the main issue though. What I am referring to is that, despite what you _unintentionally_ did to him, Severus still took it upon himself to look for you, and carry you here, personally, after it was discovered that you couldn't be levitated. He also refused to leave your side while you recovered from your shock."

Harry hung his head, now feeling the beginnings of regret for his harsh words with the man earlier on. That man was absolutely infuriating in the way he caused such conflicting emotions in him. One minute, Harry was fuming at him, and the next he was hating his shortness with him.

"I know I lost my temper, Ma'am," Harry muttered, still looking at the floor. "And I'm sorry … but I couldn't help it – "

"I'm not blaming you, Harry," Poppy interrupted, smiling reassuringly. "All I'm saying, is there is more to Severus Snape, than you might realize. Don't hold him in aversion for things he has no control over…"

Harry could only nod sheepishly, before turning to leave.

"One moment, Mr Potter," Poppy drew her wand and waved it, mending the holes in Harry's shirt. He blushed profusely and nodded his thanks, before turning to leave again.

"Enjoy your morning, Harry. I don't want to see you in here again for quite some time."

Harry looked over his shoulder to see the Matron grinning at him, making a smile spread across his own face.

"I'll try my best Ma'am," he replied, shutting the door with a small wave, before strolling through the halls on his way down to the grounds.

*****

For the next two days, Harry spent his time walking the halls, examining the colouring that drifted through the air, and surrounding all the people he saw. He finally figured out that it was the ambient magical energy that thrived within Hogwarts grounds and walls. Everything he saw, while he still remained in his Avatarial form, gave off its magical essence, and Harry was slowly deciphering what he saw. He could determine and gauge other peoples emotions, and knew how powerful, in the magical sense, they are, and also, had the potential to achieve.

He knew that there was even more information hidden in the glowing auras, but he also knew it would take him much more time to see through all the layers. Harry also spoke to Remus during that time, but he also refused to say anything regarding who his father was … something that made Harry avoid Remus for some time, placing him in the same category as Snape.

Professor McGonagall got around to seeing Harry the afternoon he had left the Infirmary, and needless to say that, even with Dumbledore's warning, she was quite alarmed at his new appearance. After recovering from her initial shock, McGonagall had swiftly returned to Professor mode, and instructed him in the general theories regarding shape-shifting.

By the end of the day, Harry had managed to rid himself of his horns and hocked feet, returning him to a normal stance. He had even gathered McGonagall in his arms and swung her around in his exuberance, though he apologized profusely after settling down and returning the smaller woman to the floor.

McGonagall had merely waved the apology aside, and flashed Harry a proud smile, telling him she didn't mind and to continue practising in his spare time. Reverting back to his natural form should feel natural, so he didn't need to know what he was originally meant to look like in order to achieve it.

Currently, Harry was enjoying a walk around the lake, feeling lighter than he had in days, as he'd finally rid himself of all the signs of his inhumanness. He was back to his normal skin tone, and was loving the way he saw the world, back to its normal colour and tones. Harry was surprised when he looked in the mirror that morning, knowing he'd finally reverted to what he _should_ have looked like all his life, to find a face he found strangely familiar. His nose wasn't as boyish as it used to be, now appearing straight and elegant, and all his features were more angular, possessing a sharpness that wasn't there before. His cheekbones were higher and overall his face was a little stockier. His eyes, thankfully, retained their bright green colouring, and stood out more under his arched eyebrows.

Long, black and silky hair rested against Harry's noticeably broad and powerful shoulders, and he found himself swatting the strands that refused to stay behind his ears from his eyes. The tall and strong frame that Harry had gained from his transformation shrank surprisingly little, so he still stood only around an inch shorter than Snape.

Using the knowledge that McGonagall had taught him, Harry tried successfully to change some of his natural look, back into what was more familiar to him. His powerful frame shrank to a more comfortable size, though he was still bigger than he was beforehand, and Harry changed some of his features to more resemble those of his previous face. His scar still stood out sharply on his forehead, but Harry was grateful that the hair that fell into his eyes could hide it.

Due to the still warm weather, Harry was wearing jeans and a normal tee shirt as he strode around the grounds, scuffing his trainers in the grass every few steps. Harry had noticed some time ago, that, as he stomped rather noisily through the outskirts of the forest, no animals or birds fled or took flight. None feared his presence, and treated him as they would any other forest dweller. It was unsettling, in a strange way.

"I see you've discovered how to change your general appearance, Harry," Dumbledore remarked idly at dinner, as Harry took a seat next to McGonagall. "But you don't seem to look as I imagined you would?"

Harry shook his head as he dished himself some Shepard's pie. "It's not my natural form, Sir. I wanted to sort of sit halfway for a while, so I didn't freak anyone out by looking completely different."

"Quite understandable, Harry," the headmaster replied, munching on a piece of steak. "I'm in no position to tell you what you should look like, but may I request you show us for a few minutes, right now? You don't have to if you don't want to," Dumbledore added as he saw Harry hesitate.

"No, it's all right Sir," Harry hurriedly exclaimed, looking between both McGonagall and Dumbledore. "I can show you. Err … should I stand…?"

Dumbledore waved a hand. "Whatever you feel comfortable with, my boy."

Harry nodded and stood, stepping back from the table so the two could have a better view. After his morning and evening practises, Harry found it tremendously easier to change his looks, which is why it only took a few moments for him to feel his body shift and change on its way to the frame that felt most comfortable. He shut his eyes and bowed his head, not wanting to see their faces until the change was complete.

In a noticeably shorter span of time (Seemingly only about fifteen seconds) Harry felt the sensations cease. His clothing was notably snugger than normal, but he also knew from experience that the clothing he wore changed to accommodate for the subtler changes in his size.

Slowly, Harry raised his head and opened his eyes, seeing McGonagall staring openly at him, while Dumbledore seemed to have a wistful smile attached to his face.

"May I present what you should have been looking at for the past five years," said Harry, liking his smooth and silky voice. It was deeper than his older voice, but thankfully, it wasn't as deep and rumbling as the one he possessed in his Avatarial form.

McGonagall let her eyes travel the full length of Harry, before she settled once again on his face.

"Well, Mr Potter, I'm sure we can all agree that the term _Short and Scrawny_ no longer applies to you…"

Harry grinned at her and chuckled lightly, nodding his head. "Quite true, Professor, though I could go back to that if I wanted to. I don't completely, but at least it's familiar."

"How will you appear before Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, when they arrive here tomorrow?" said Dumbledore, resuming his seat. "As you were not two minutes ago, or your former image?"

Harry's face broke out in a huge grin. "Ron and Hermione are arriving tomorrow? When?" Without even knowing so, Harry had stepped forward and excitedly turned Dumbledore back around, sliding the huge chair without effort. Dumbledore had a smile on his face, but nodded just the same.

"They should be arriving here at around lunch time, Harry. How about we take a trip down to Hogsmeade and meet them?"

Harry felt over the moon and grasped Dumbledore by his shoulders in an abbreviated hug. At that moment, the back door behind the Head Table opened, and a startled cry made Harry turn his head …… only to come nose to nose with the end of a wand.

"Step back from him this second, or lose your head," Snape's cold voice spat out viciously, his wand ever steady.

"Severus no – " McGonagall started, but she was cut off almost immediately by Snape, who wasn't listening and was focussed only on Harry.

"Move over there, and tell me who you are," the brooding man demanded, as Harry obeyed and stepped away, throwing Snape a _very_ disgusted look.

"Severus," Dumbledore began bracingly. "You only seem to have arrived at a confusing moment – "

"_Who_ _are you?_" Snape spat, jerking his wand for emphasis and ignoring Dumbledore.

Harry took his eyes off Snape's wand and looked him straight in the eye. He really didn't recognise him… Then, something Snape had told him about his powers floated into his mind, and Harry grinned almost evilly. He squared his shoulders and remained silent, shaking his head only minutely at Dumbledore and McGonagall, telling them to not interfere. He took one step forward…

"Stop right there!" snapped Snape, hefting his wand again. "I'll take your head off without a second thought … now tell me who you are, and what you are doing here?"

Harry straightened up and smiled widely; enjoying the wariness he was creating in the potions master. "Do your worst, _Snape,_ and find out for yourself…"

With that, Harry winked at the worried looking couple standing behind Snape, before snarling and leaping at the man, arms outstretched as if to tackle him. Snape reacted instantly, stepping sideways out of Harry's path, then swivelling around to face him, wand raised, and bellowing "_Stupefy!_"

Harry felt the spell hit him, but nothing occurred other than a small flash where it connected, before it vanished into nothingness. Harry grinned and turned to face Snape, who for his part was staring at him, absolutely gob smacked.

With the utmost sarcasm, Harry came to attention, and bowed lavishly. As he straightened up, he said, "Surprise!"

Snape looked him up and down, mouth agape, and slowly lowered his wand, stuttering out, "Potter?" as he did so.

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Ghee, I wonder what gave you _that_ idea, Professor?"

"And this is what you looked like behind your mask of James?"

Harry nodded.

"Quite remarkable, isn't it, Severus," said Dumbledore softly, shooting Snape a most significant glance. Snape could only manage a nod, eliciting a small chuckle from the Headmaster. "Join us for Dinner, Severus."

Snape nodded mutely, and took his usual seat, ignoring Harry as he took back his own and finished his meal. The rest of Dinner past in silence, and Harry left rather early, wanting to get in some more practise before meeting his friends the next day. He bid his teachers goodnight, letting his eyes linger on Snape for longer than necessary, before returning to his room, eager for tomorrow.


	14. Start Again

****

Chapter Fourteen: Start Again

After waking and getting cleaned up, Harry stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of his room. He was having trouble deciding how he would appear when he met Ron and Hermione in a few hours time. The most logical answer was to look like the Harry they left at the end of the previous year … but something in him just didn't want to go back to that. He was a _different_ Harry … a human one. So, Harry opted to appear before his friends the same way he had Dumbledore and McGonagall. Half way.

Dressing in jeans and a turtleneck, Harry pulled his hair back and headed down to breakfast. Dumbledore was sitting in his chair already, as was McGonagall and Snape. Remus was appearing through the door behind them, just as he walked down the house tables.

"Ready for the trip, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked, looking around McGonagall in order to see him.

"Absolutely, Sir," Harry answered, smiling at the half strangled cough that Remus issued at the sound of his name. "I can't wait."

"Harry?" Remus exclaimed, peering at him intently before flicking his gaze to Snape and back again. "Wow … you look good…"

"Thank-you," Harry answered, looking down modestly. "Though, this isn't quite the whole deal. I didn't want to freak Ron and Hermione out by looking _entirely_ different."

Remus nodded absently, still racking his eyes over Harry. "That's a good choice then, because they'll be surprised enough when they see you like this."

Harry looked down at himself, frowning bewilderedly. "It's not _that_ different, is it?"

"I assure you, Mr Potter," Snape spoke up from the other side of Dumbledore. "There is quite a significant difference in your appearance, compared to what your friends will be expecting."

"Really?" Harry momentarily forgot about the grudge he bore against Snape for the moment, as he tried to determine how true his statement was. "I didn't realize…"

"Let me make it clearer for you then, Mr Potter," Snape drawled, pulling his wand from his robes and waving it. "This is what your friends will be expecting when they meet you in Hogsmeade." An image of the thin and scrawny Harry materialized in front of the table, life like in all regards. "This is what you currently look like…" Snape waved his wand again, and an image of Harry as he appeared rose beside the former.

"Oh," was all Harry could mutter. Seeing both of his images standing side by side made him see quite clearly, just how different he looked, even at his halfway point. If he didn't know it was him already, he would have mistaken himself for someone else. "I guess it's to be the old me, on our little trip," he muttered, not bothering to wait and shifting right there at the table.

Remus gaped, and Snape looked on curiously, as Harry changed back into his old guise, missing only his glasses.

"You know, it's strange," Harry started, his brow furrowed in thought. "But, for some reason, being like this feels even more unnatural than the halfway I was just at? It's weird … but now, this just feels …_ wrong_, somehow…"

"It only feels wrong because it is so far from your true form, Mr Potter," McGonagall spoke up, playing the instructor instinctively. "It will feel that way with _any_ form other than your natural one's, until you gain more experience with it. Then it will feel as normal as any other form you take, but your true one will always feel the most comfortable."

Harry only nodded mutely and returned to his sausages. Breakfast soon finished and everyone started to leave for the day's activities, but Harry called for Snape to wait for a few moments.

"What do you want, Potter? I have things to do," said Snape, as the Double Doors to the Great Hall closed behind Dumbledore. He was currently dressed in a normal black button down shirt, and black trousers. Harry was mildly surprised at the strong frame the Potions Master kept hidden beneath his swathing robes.

"Um … I – I just wanted to apologize about what I said to you, that day in the Infirmary. I wasn't being fair, especially after you helped me after I transformed. And I'm sorry I hit you as well," Harry continued, missing the dazed look on Snape's face. "I didn't mean to, but it was just kind of reflex – "

"Potter!" Snape cut in, halting Harry's rambling. He was looking at him as though he'd lost his mind. Harry didn't blame him. How many times would he actually be apologizing to the man? "Although you may feel the need to apologize, I don't want to hear it. I already know that you had almost no control over your actions in the Infirmary, and you've every right to be angry at me about not telling you who your father is."

Harry was flabbergasted. Snape was speaking to him _civilly_! More than that, he was admitting he'd been in the wrong! Harry shook his head jerkily as though to clear it.

"Professor, wait!" Harry called, for Snape had turned and made his way to the door behind the Head Table. He turned back; looking mildly irritated, but stopped all the same. Harry walked up to him, hating how he had to look upwards so far, now that he was short again. "Um … thank you."

Snape's eyebrows rose. "What for, Potter?"

Harry let his eyes drop to the floor. He didn't want to bring it up again, but he needed to thank the man for what he did. "F – for taking me away from the Dursley's … Sir…"

There was a stiff moment of silence, before Snape spoke up.

"There's no need to thank me, Harry," he said quietly. Harry's head snapped up at the use of his first name by the Potions Master. He'd never done that before…

"But Sir – "

"If it wasn't for your friends Owling their concerns, we never would have known what was happening there … so I think it's safe to say that the people you should thank, will be arriving here in a few hours."

Harry held Snape's gaze for a moment, before giving him the smallest smile and nodding. "Yes Sir." Snape nodded back and once again turned to leave, reaching out for the latch before Harry thought of something else to ask the man. "Sir, I was wondering – "

"What _now_, Potter?!" he snapped whirling around, looking as though he was wild for a moment.

Harry flinched and took an involuntary step away from him, a surge of panic filling his chest. _Not again! Calm down you idiot! Uncle Vernon isn't here…_ But Harry couldn't stop the small tremors that sprung up in him. He knew his breathing had gotten quicker, and by the look on Snape's face, he guessed he must look like a dear caught in the headlights.

He looked away, not wanting Snape to see him like this for a second time, and started to turn quickly, fully intending to flee so he could calm down. A sudden heavy hand on his shoulder made Harry cry out in fright. He instantly tried to throw the hand off and stumbled blindly sideways, running into the chairs sitting at the Head Table, tripping him up in his panic.

Someone was speaking to him, but Harry couldn't make out the words. He crawled away from the voice (which sounded terrifyingly like Uncle Vernon) and tried to hide. Drawing his knees to his chest, Harry cowered under the table, rocking back and forth ……

***

"What _now,_ Potter?!"

Snape whirled around, irritated profoundly by the boy's insistence in keeping him away from his work. He scowled at the boy heavily … but he didn't continue to speak. Snape furrowed his brow as Potter appeared as a frightened animal, spotted by the creature hunting it. He started tremble, ever so slightly, and Snape knew what was happening.

The boy appeared terrified and started to turn away. Cursing himself for his forgetfulness, knowing how hostile voices affected him at present, Snape quickly stepped forward, grasping the boy's shoulder tightly to stay him.

Potter's strangled yelp at the contact startled Snape quite efficiently. Instantly, Potter wrenched from his grasp and collided into the chairs they had occupied not ten minutes ago.

"Potter!" Snape called, hoping to call the boy back as he'd done in the Infirmary. "Potter, it's all right … nothing's going to hurt you…" He knelt down in front of him, leaning in slightly. The boy was muttering under his breath, too soft for most of what he was saying to be heard, but little things like "didn't mean to" and "please don't" reached his ears.

Snape snarled inwardly. He would get Dursley for what he'd done to this boy. No one had the right to treat anyone in that manner, let alone his own nephew. It was strange that, in merely three days, Harry had rid himself of all physical signs related to his abuse at the hands of his relatives, thanks to his restorative abilities. It was a shame that those same powers couldn't be used to heal the traumatic damage to his mind as well.

"Harry," Snape called again, more gently than before. "Harry you're safe here. You're at Hogwarts … no one's going to harm you here…"

With large amounts of trepidation, Snape slowly reached out and touched Harry's hair, trying to subconsciously project the feelings of comfort and affection that had been denied him his whole life. Needless to say, it was harder than Snape thought to have feelings of such bearing towards someone who resembled his childhood enemy so much. Snape knew his feelings were irrational, but to hate a face for so long it was hard to just push those feelings aside … no matter how much he wanted to.

Harry flinched away at Snape's touch and whimpered a little more, so Snape took it as a good sign and continued his slow approach. He continued to whisper reassurance, while slowly getting closer to Harry, feeling the strangest emotions filling him as he continued. They were almost foreign to him, but strangely not unpleasant…

After a time, Harry's rocking slowly diminished, as did his panicked muttering. Snape looked down and was surprised that he'd actually encased Harry in an embrace from behind; the boy leaning back into him. He was feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the close contact, but it seemed to fade swiftly as he felt Harry shift against him, seemingly making himself more comfortable. Snape was actually surprised that the boy was seeking any comfort with him at all, considering he was the reason behind his attack in the first place.

"I'm sorry…"

Snape blinked, almost missing the statement it was so soft. He turned his gaze to the unruly mop of black hair in front of him, seeing the slight shaking of the head, as though in shame, before tightening his arms minutely, feeling as though he needed to rectify this in any way possible.

"Don't be," Snape answered, just as quietly. "I should be saying that, not you. You only wished to say something else, and I took my impatience out on you. It would have only taken up another two minutes of my time, so there was no excuse for my behaviour. I apologize for causing you more distress."

Snape held his breath, waiting for Harry to respond, letting it out when he felt Harry relax even more in his arms, actually leaning into him more. He allowed himself the smallest smile, realizing that, this didn't seem so bad. He was comforting his son, and it was slowly filling a place in him that he thought dead years ago. It was a strange situation.

As he thought this however, Snape felt his hope at successfully being Harry's father, diminish significantly. In order for him to _be_ Harry's father … he needed to tell him that he was. Yet Harry had declared only three days ago that he hated the man that fathered him, solely because he was a Deatheater.

Deciding he would think about that later, Snape thought back to what Harry was saying before he'd snapped at him.

"What were you going to ask me before, Harry?" he asked, sounding as reproachful of his own actions as he could.

"Hmm? Oh," Harry sounded as though he'd come out of a light doze at the question, making Snape feel a strange sensation. _He's comfortable enough to fall asleep on me?_ "I was only going to ask if – if you could possibly try and teach me about my powers, as they come out? Nothing too important…"

"I wouldn't say that," Snape replied, looking down at the top of Harry's head. "You do need to learn about your powers, and how to best use them. I'd be happy to teach you all I can about them. Naturally I couldn't know all there is to know about them … but I can try my best."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't mention it…" Snape thought about his next request for only a moment, before plunging onwards. "… And while we're at it, how about I call you Harry, and you may call me Severus, while term is out, or in private?"

At this, Harry slowly sat up and turned to face him, though letting him keep one arm on his shoulders. Snape was mildly surprised to see a look of something close to suspicion flit through the boy's green eyes, as though determining if he was sane or even real.

"Why are you asking me this?" he said suddenly, looking at Snape almost coolly. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden? You've always tried your best to discredit and embarrass me, so why the change?"

Snape held Harry's gaze all the while, understanding why he would be so suspicious of his behaviour. He would have been uneasy if he _didn't_ ask him this.

"I realize it has been a long time coming, Harry," Snape began quietly. "But, after seeing you last night, looking as you should have all these years, I realized that you are not James Potter. You may have looked like him, but it was wrong of me to hold my grudge against him on you as well." He leant back against one of the table legs, sighing. "And now, knowing that James was _never_ your father … I just want to start over…"

Snape was surprised at himself. Normally he was never so open with anyone save the Headmaster, but this just seemed to feel natural. He watched as Harry thought it over, finding himself crawling from under the table, as Harry had done while he thought it over. They stood facing each other, silent, when all of a sudden, Harry decided to shift into his true form.

Snape stared into the face that reminded him so much of his own, thinking that Harry had to be thick if he didn't notice the resemblance, when said boy began to speak.

"All right …… Se – Severus," he stuttered awkwardly. "But I don't want you to call me Harry – "

"Very well," Snape interrupted, trying to hide the tremendous hurt that surged through him at the words. "Mr Potter. It's a start at least – "

"You didn't let me finish, _Severus_," Harry spoke over him, looking mildly amused at the same time as apologetic. Snape could tell that he hadn't successfully hidden all the hurt…

"What I was going to say was that, I didn't want you to call me Harry, because that has never really been my name … has it?" He held Harry's gaze, realizing what he was saying. "I would like you to give me my name, Severus. You've helped me all these years, even if I didn't know you did at the time, and would like to thank you by letting you give me a name I should have been using… that is just between us…" Harry held out his hand. "I would like to start over as well … and seeing how you know my last name – something I won't force you to divulge – you can pick a name that would suit it best."

Snape numbly took the hand Harry held out; feeling overwhelmed by the request Harry had given him. _I am to name him. As though he'd always been mine to claim! I get to _name _my Son!_

"I'm honoured to accept your request," Snape hated how his voice wasn't as smooth as it usually was, but at this point the couldn't care. Harry smiled at him faintly, and he returned the gesture, releasing their clasped hands. "I'll tell you your name after dinner tonight. I need some time to think it over. Could you meet me at around eight, at the potions room?" Harry nodded. "Thank you." Snape glanced at his watch and grinned. "You should probably go and meet Albus now," he remarked, grinning wider at his son's puzzled expression. "You've about two hours until your friends arrive – "

He got no further. Harry had cursed under his breath and dashed from the hall, not even giving Snape a second glance. He allowed himself a small chuckle, before growing serious again, determined to sit in his quarters and think of a good name for his son.


	15. A Swim, Anyone?

****

Chapter Fifteen: A Swim, Anyone?

"Harry!!!"

Harry grinned as a head of bushy brown hair obscured all his vision, as he, along with Dumbledore and Remus, stood at the fireplace of the Three Broomsticks. After his rather strange encounter with Sna – Severus, Harry had hurried up to the Headmasters office. Dumbledore had waved his lateness aside, giving him a strange smile, before they both headed down the floors and out into the grounds, where they had met up with Remus, who decided to see Ron and Hermione as well.

"Hey Hermione," he laughed, returning the bone crushing hug she proceeded to throw on him the moment she stood after stumbling from the Floo. He was careful to be gentle though, remembering his strength, for he possessed all of his abilities no matter what form he took. "How are you?"

"Me?" she exclaimed, stepping back and looking up at him. "How are _you_? Ron and I have been going mad worrying about you when none of our letters were getting through! You _are_ all right though, aren't you?"

"It's ok, Hermione," Harry answered gently, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "I'm fine now. There's nothing to worry about."

Hermione studied him for a moment, before she nodded and stepped over to greet Remus and Dumbledore. Not two seconds later, the fireplace flared again, spitting out a tall and gangly figure with flaming red hair. Harry managed to catch him easily and stand him upright, brushing of all the soot as he did so.

"Thanks mate," said Ron, doing a mild double-take as he realized Harry was not much shorter than him (Harry had decided to look like his old self, though with a few more inches). "Wow, Harry … you grew!"

Harry laughed, picking up Ron's trunk and carrying it over to where Hermione, Remus and Dumbledore had gathered, with little effort. Ron didn't seem to notice this feat of strength, but Harry noticed Hermione giving him an appraising sort of look before returning to her discussion with Remus.

Biting his lip, Harry set the trunk down and stole a glance at Dumbledore. His beard twitched as he saw the embarrassment on Harry's face, but he said nothing about it. A loud crack shot through the air, making Harry jump out of his skin. He spun around with his wand drawn, and pointed it right between the eyes of the person now standing right behind him – 

"Whoa Harry! What are you doing?!"

A hand shot out from beside him, grasping his wrist and pulling his wand forcibly from his grasp. Harry whirled to face whoever it was, only to come face to face with Ron, who for his part was staring at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"Why'd you do – ?"

"What is the matter with you?!" Ron hissed disbelievingly. "You just tried to curse Mum!"

"What?" Harry turned back to where the 'crack' had sounded, only to find a very pale faced Mrs Weasley standing there, a hand to her chest trying to settle down. "Oh my God, Mrs Weasley! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to – "

"No no," Mrs Weasley interrupted, holding up a hand and stepping forward, patting Harry on the shoulder. "It's quite all right, Harry dear. I startled you, and after what you've had to go through I should expect you to react that way."

Harry shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. "I'm sorry …"

"Don't worry yourself over it, Harry dear," Mrs Weasley smiled at him warmly, "I'm just happy to see you looking so fine." She stepped forward and gave him a hug, which Harry returned willingly, feeling horrible about what he'd done to the woman that considered him another son.

"Now, Albus," she stepped back and addressed the Headmaster. "I understand that Ron here, and Hermione will be staying for the rest of the summer?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That's correct, Molly. Harry here required their presence, so I see no reason why they couldn't remain here for the rest of the holidays. Harry is unable to leave at the moment, so I've permitted them to remain and keep him some much needed company."

"Well, I'm glad to see he's looking so well," she remarked, making Ron snort as Harry felt his face burn at the comment. She turned to face the Trio, smiling at Harry and Hermione, and shooting Ron a motherly frown. "Now, you three behave yourselves, and don't go looking for trouble. Lord knows it has a habit of finding you without any help, so don't encourage that fact." She gave each of them a hug, lingering on Harry for a moment longer than necessary, before stepping back and smiling at them all. "Be good, and I hope to see you over Christmas break."

"Thanks for letting me stay, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione, waving her hand. "I really appreciate it."

"Oh think nothing of it dear," Mrs Weasley replied, making sure she had everything on her, ready to leave. "It was our pleasure, what with you worrying over Harry so much. You're welcome any time."

Harry looked over at Hermione in time to see her duck her head, noticing that she seemed to look a little red around the cheeks. He allowed himself a small smile, but it faded when he saw Ron frowning at the innocent comment his mother had made.

The small troupe made their way back up the trail, enjoying the afternoon breeze, after Mrs Weasley had finally apperated back to the Burrow, swapping news about the Wizarding world in general, and having a good muck around. Harry asked Dumbledore if it would be all right for them to go for a swim later on, and he joked about inviting Snape along as well, making Ron scoff, much to Harry's annoyance … something Hermione spotted almost immediately.

"What's wrong, Harry? You like Professor Snape just as much as the rest of humanity?"

Harry sighed, looking over his shoulder to where Ron was talking to Remus. "Something happened, Hermione … and … Sev – Snape and me are trying to get along better now. It's still a bit of a rocky start, but he's actually not that bad, once you get past his sarcasm and cold indifference." He let himself cock a crooked grin at the last, making Hermione shake her head.

"And you don't want Ron messing it up, right?" Hermione grinned, nodding with understanding. "I can't guarantee my reaction to him, Harry … but I'll try not to annoy him, if it means that much to you…"

"Thanks Hermione. So, you gonna come swimming with me and Ron later on, or are you gonna chicken out?" Harry smiled at her, as she scowled up at him.

"Of course I'll come," she slapped him good naturedly on the shoulder, making him chuckle. "Are you going to ask Professor Snape?"

Harry scratched his chin. "Maybe. Seeing how you two will be there as well, I doubt he would … but then, there's no harm in asking either. Worst he could do is say no."

Hermione nodded, as though appeased, but Harry could tell she wanted to say more, so he waited…

"Harry, are you going to tell us why you never got our Owls, or why Dumbledore saw it fit to keep you here?"

"Yes," he answered immediately, looking down at her. "But not yet. I want to have a little fun first, before we get into the serious stuff. You know, _enjoy _myself for a change…"

"Ok, Harry," was all Hermione uttered, returning her gaze to the path ahead.

The rest of the walk was travelled in companionable silence, until they reached the Entrance Hall, where Dumbledore informed them of their sleeping arrangements. Ron was to share the quarters Harry was using, and Hermione would be given the room right beside theirs.

"You wouldn't believe what the Twins got me, Harry," said Ron, as he and Harry sat in their room, Ron unpacking some of his things.

Harry shrugged. "What did they get you?" he deadpanned.

Ron grinned and dove into his trunk, rummaging around in search of something. "Here it is," he said, standing up and drawing out a small container.

Frowning slightly, Harry asked what it was.

"Open it and see," said Ron, holding the cylinder out to Harry, who took it hesitantly.

Raising an eyebrow at the redhead, Harry obligingly popped the lid, only to be startled witless as a large snakelike thing boiled out at him, whacking him soundly on the nose.

Ron was clutching his sides, howling with laughter as he tried to remain standing upright. As it was he was leaning on the doorjamb to the bathroom.

Harry scowled good naturedly at his friend, placing the material-like object back into the tin, finding the whole thing was practically a spring-loaded mini-missile. "Very funny. Did they get the idea from the Muggles, did they? I've seen them with similar things…"

Ron, after settling down, nodded, taking the tin back when Harry handed it out to him. "Yeah, they did. They saw some of the Muggles older type prank stuff, so they decided to make them the Muggle way to start off with, (he gestured towards the tin on the bed) before they start to make them a bit more Wizard-like, if you catch my meaning…?"

Harry most certainly did, and prepared himself for whatever effects the twins could place upon such a simple toy.

Ron put the prank back in his trunk, and continued to draw out little tid-bits and non-essentials, until he closed the lid and stood … with a wrapped package in his hand.

"Happy Belated Birthday, Harry," Ron declared, grinning and holding the gift out. "Because none of our Owls got through, Hermione and me decided to wait to give you your presents. It's just luck that Dumbledore wrote to us, saying we'd be here for the rest of summer."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry took the gift and began to open it, smiling when the last of the wrapping was finally pulled away. It was a watch. Harry opened the clear container, and pulled it out, examining the soft, black leather band and silver casing. The face was a deep forest green, and had words written where the quarters would have been. He bent closer, and read out, "No problems, Be wary, Keep looking over your shoulder, You're toast." Aside from the two silver hands that told the time, there was one (currently on "No Problems) that was coloured golden … clearly visible against the green background.

"Hermione chipped in a bit for it, but she still wanted to get you something herself," said Ron, as Harry continued to stare in awe at the watch. "We saw it the day we took a little trip to Diagon Alley, and Hermione sort of jumped on it. Said it would be perfect for you, or something…"

"I love it!" Harry breathed, immediately latching it to his wrist. "Thanks, Ron!" He stood and gave him a swift hug, not wanting to think how much such a gift would have cost him and Hermione. He could hardly believe that they would get him something so thoughtful. The very idea almost brought tears to his eyes.

"Am I interrupting something?" an amused voice drifted from the doorway.

Harry let Ron go and turned to Hermione, who was grinning at the reaction Ron had had to the brief embrace. He was very red around the ears, and seemed pleasantly embarrassed.

Harry ignored Ron and stepped up to Hermione, smiling widely as he also took her up in a swift embrace, kissing her on the cheek lightly as he set her back down.

"Thank you so much for the watch," he grinned, showing her he had it on.

Hermione smiled happily. "You liked it? I was worried that you wouldn't. I even made sure it was waterproof for you as well," she added, grinning up at him.

Harry's smile wavered, and his eyes clouded over for a moment, remembering the Second Task in the lake the previous year. Though, compared to the events of the term passed, risk of drowning seemed inconsequential. "Did you…?" he muttered, looking down at the gift. "Thanks…"

"I'm sorry, Harry, I shouldn't've – "

"No, it's ok, Hermione," Harry quickly interrupted, smiling down at her reassuringly. He took a calming breath … "It just … brought back some memories…"

Ron and Hermione took a small glance at each other, not knowing how to move forward, when Harry looked up at them, smiling as though the incident had never happened.

"So! We gonna go swimming, or what?"

"Absolutely," Ron exclaimed, glad for the change of subject and diving into his trunk to pull out his swimmers.

Hermione stepped up to Harry and whispered conspiritively, "Are you going to ask Professor Snape?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He asked me to meet him after dinner tonight anyway, so…" he trailed off, leaving it at that, which Hermione accepted.

After Harry had dug out his own towel and swimmers, he and Ron waited outside Hermione's room while she got ready. They all wore their clothes over the top of their swimmers, wanting to wait until they got down to the lake, not wanting any of the few teachers that were still there to see them in such a state of dress.

The three friends were laughing at one of Ron's accounts of the Twin's practical joke experiments, when a dark figure suddenly appeared right beside them in the Entrance Hall.

"Well, well, well," Snape drawled with his usual iciness. "If it isn't Gryffindor's _finest_…" He stared at all of them in turn, narrowing his eyes slightly when he met the unsure eyes of Harry. "And where might you be wandering off to, at this time of day? Out to sneak into the Forbidden Forest, maybe?"

"Actually, Professor," Hermione began politely, "we were heading out for a swim in the lake, with the Headmaster's permission." Snape cocked an eyebrow, clearly surprised with the cordial reply. "He even suggested that we invite you to join us, Professor."

Snape harrumphed at the request. "Why does that not surprise me?" he remarked, scowling somewhat good-naturedly.

Ron's jaw dropped, but Harry smiled, happy that at least Severus wouldn't be _too_ mean to his friends. "So … will you?" he asked, ignoring the strangled sound Ron made, and instead focusing on Severus's surprised face.

"We don't bite, Professor," Hermione remarked with a small grin, laughing openly when Harry muttered loudly: "Much…"

Harry could tell that Severus was having an internal battle, debating on whether he could accompany them at all, and if he did, would it be as their Professor, or as a grudging equal?

"You can be our nasty old Potions Professor again _after_ our swim," Harry put forward hesitantly, knowing that to do this, especially in front of Ron and Hermione, would be a huge jump in the change Snape had promised him. "You can just come down with us, and enjoy yourself for a couple of hours…?"

Snape still seemed overtly worried…

Harry sighed. "Ok, … We _promise _we won't tease, or mention it to _anyone_ afterwards. It'll be _just _between us, right guys?" Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, both of whom nodded; Hermione rather encouragingly, but Ron looked resigned.

Snape eyed them, shifting a little uneasily …

***

"Are you two out of your minds?!!" Ron hissed, as they made their way across the grounds; Snape heading back to his quarters after agreeing to Harry's plea's. "Why would you _willingly invite_ that greasy git to – "

"Don't you ever call him that again, Ron," Harry snapped, sufficiently surprising Ron into silence. "He's taking a huge leap in joining us. Think how uncomfortable it will be for him? We're his students, and he'll be worried that we won't hold any respect for him as a teacher, after being on the same level as us for the afternoon."

"But it's _Snape_!" Ron spluttered, putting his towel on the ground as they reached the lake's shoreline. "Respect is the furthest thing from my mind whenever he's even _mentioned_, let alone here, swimming with us, and _not_ trying to scare ten years off our lives…"

Harry forced himself to remain quite, as he along with Hermione also placed their towels on the shore. He knew that Ron wasn't trying to pry at him by saying things about Severus, it was just one of those quirks he had to put up with. Though, Harry still couldn't push back all of his annoyance at his red-haired friend, purely because he was being incredibly narrow-minded.

Harry knew now … better than most _anyone_ … was that, not everything appeared as it did. To Ron and Hermione, he was still just another wizard. How wrong they were. And it was all because they expected him to be this way, because he always had to them. Snape was no different in a way. He showed the word the indifferent façade that he'd always seen until that very morning … but now Harry knew that there was a decent human being hiding underneath. Hopefully Ron could accept that eventually. He already knew that Hermione was well on her way, when it came to Snape's other side, and he was happy about it. At least they wouldn't be at odds over it; unlike he would be with Ron.

"Come on, Harry!" Ron yelled, as he stripped the rest of his clothing to reveal the swimmers they'd all donned earlier. "Stop dawdling!!" With that, Ron jogged to the edge of the calm water, and unceremoniously dove in.

Harry shook his head, smiling, while Hermione laughed out loud. She also threw her clothes on the ground, keeping her tee shirt over her swimsuit, before strolling calmly to the water and walking in. Harry couldn't help but look at Hermione appraisingly, never actually seeing her in such a revealing manner before. He had to admit that she'd grown up, and was starting to show it in all the right places.

"Harry?" Ron called, spitting some water out of his mouth as he resurfaced from a short dive. "Are you gonna get in, or what??"

Harry hesitated; an unexpected clutching at his chest. He wanted to join them … it was even his idea. But it was then that Harry remembered the scarring that littered his body, and he already knew that he couldn't hide them. They weren't as noticeable in his Avatarial form, but Harry knew they would blatantly stand out on his pale skin. Especially the large, star shaped one on his shoulder, where the bullet his Uncle fired had penetrated.

Harry had already decided to tell Ron and Hermione about his being an Avatar … but he would never tell them about his treatment at the hands of the Dursley's. He didn't need or want their pity, and to tell them would only reinforce the feelings of weakness and humiliation he harboured towards himself, knowing that he _let_ them treat him in such a manner.

"Harry?" Ron called again, startling Harry from his thoughts. He looked out and saw that both Ron, and Hermione were looking at him concernedly. He opened his mouth to answer, but saw them both look suddenly uncomfortable, staring at a point just behind him.

Turning, Harry saw Severus striding up toward them, wearing an old pair of black jeans, and a flimsy tee shirt. He was barefoot, and apparently without a towel … but then Harry saw his wand strapped to his arm, and remembered that the Professor could perform magic all the time.

Snape gave him an appraising glance, as he strode up towards him, and Harry knew that he was wondering why he hadn't joined his friends yet. Looking away, Harry shuffled from foot to foot; embarrassed for the reasons he'd made for himself.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Severus greeted evenly, stopping right in front of Harry. "I see that Mr Weasley and Miss Granger have already indulged themselves … but seeing as this was apparently your idea, I fail to see why you have yet to join them?"

Harry raised his eyes, locking his gaze with Severus, finding an expression free of malice, and instead one tinged with curiosity and concern.

"I, err … I just – " Harry stuttered, feeling his face begin to burn as he looked at his feet again. "I didn't want them to – to see my … umm…" Harry trailed off again, feeling his breathing begin to quicken.

"See what, Harry?" Severus asked, his smooth voice almost projecting a tenderness Harry had never heard before. Harry saw him raise a hand slowly, and he tensed instinctively, feeling his chest tighten painfully as the hand fell back to its owner's side.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hurriedly, looking up at Severus pleadingly. "I can't help it – "

"I understand, Harry," the taller man interrupted gently. "It's only a natural reaction, and it will take time to sort through it. I only ask that you let me try and help?"

Harry had never seen Severus look as serious and sincere as he did right then, and it moved him in a way he'd never felt before. Unable to voice a reply to such a request, Harry instead shot a look to his friends (who looked very confused) grateful that they were too far away for them to hear what was being said.

"I'm worried, Severus, about them seeing … my, umm…" Harry trailed off again, looking over his torso where he knew most of the clearer scars resided. This action, however, allowed Severus to read into the gesture more effectively.

"You don't want them to see your scars."

Harry hung his head and shook it. "No … I don't…"

"Don't be ashamed of them, Harry – "

"I didn't even fight back!" Harry hissed out savagely, surprising even himself. "I didn't even _try_ – "

"And it only proves that you are more human than they will _ever_ be!" Severus cut in earnestly. "No human deserves to be treated in such a manner, just as no human has the right to treat anyone _in_ that manner!"

Harry locked eyes with him, taking a deep breath … "_I'm not human!_" he rasped, unsuccessfully keeping the waver from his voice. "I don't _deserve_ – "

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Harry," Snape cut in sternly, though gently. "And I never want to hear you speak about yourself like that again." Harry saw him look over his shoulder, before returning his gaze to his face again. "This, however is not the time or place to discuss this. Now, I'm going to place a concealment charm on you, to hide your scars, so you're going to have to let me through your defences. After that, we are going to take our planned swim in the lake … all right?"

Severus cocked an eyebrow, and Harry sighed … nodding agreeably. Severus drew his wand discreetly, and cast the concealment charm. Harry could feel the spell working on him, and had to consciously let it through, knowing it had worked even though he couldn't see his skin yet.

Harry turned back around to look at Ron and Hermione, giving them a smile for their benefit. "Keep your shorts on guy's!" he yelled out, starting to pull off his shirt. "I'm coming in!"

Ron and Hermione grinned at him, before turning their attention back to swimming, letting the two shore dwellers alone for the moment.

Harry stood in his trunks, feeling a rush of relief when he looked down, seeing no scarring whatsoever. He grinned faintly at Snape, who nodded, standing with only his jeans on. Harry's grin wavered, as he let his gaze wander to Severus's bare chest, seeing the scars that decorated the pale skin.

"Don't concern yourself, Harry," Severus spoke up gently. "I've had much more time to deal with mine, than you have…" With that, Severus strode briskly towards the lake, nodding at Ron and Hermione, who paused to watch him enter the water, before diving in gracefully, swimming out to the middle almost immediately.

For a moment, Harry wondered whether all of Severus's scars came from his Deatheater days, or if some of them were recent acquisitions? He shook his head. Whatever the case, he wasn't about to ask. He saw Hermione wave at him to come in, and Harry let himself smile, gratefully pushing all thoughts aside, save for enjoying the afternoon with his two best friends, and appreciate the new ground he had stepped upon with Severus.


	16. The Breaking Point

****

Chapter Sixteen: The Breaking Point

Severus paced in his rooms, glancing up at the clock more frequently as the time for Dinner came ever closer. He'd enjoyed his swim in the lake earlier on; surprised at how the three teens had minded their manners, as Harry assured they would, and found himself actually enjoying the time he'd spent with them. True, Weasley had been rather indifferent to his presence, but Miss Granger had been quite polite, almost to the point of friendly with him.

He shook his head, letting his gaze fall to the piece of parchment he'd left on his desk. There were many words scratched out, but two at the bottom stood untouched. He'd leant over that parchment since the moment he got back from the lake and cleaned up, donning a simple set of black trousers and button down shirt. He looked at the clock again before tearing off the bottom of the parchment, folding it in half and placing it in his breast pocket, then heading for the Great Hall … hoping that Harry would approve the name he'd chosen for him.

*****

"That was the strangest afternoon I've ever experienced," Ron exclaimed overly dramatically. He was sitting on the extra bed that Remus had conjured for him to sleep in, looking over at Harry, who was still drying his hair, and Hermione, who had sat on Harry's bed after making a small detour to her room. "I mean … who ever heard of Snape actually being nice?!!"

Hermione shook her head, sighing at how shallow Ron continued to be. She looked up at Harry and rolled her eyes, making him grin, before standing and drawing a package from her shoulder bag resting on the floor.

"Here," she said simply, holding the smallish package out to Harry, who quirked an eyebrow and took it haltingly.

"What's this?" he asked, clueless. He looked down at the simple wrapping, tied together with only string, and saw a small label. Curious, he read it…

Hermione giggled softly when Harry's eyebrows rose. "You can be so silly sometimes, Harry," she laughed. "Happy Birthday … sorry it's late, but I'm guessing Ron told you why when he gave you your watch?"

"Thank you, and yes, he did," Harry answered, sitting on his bed as he undid the string. Hermione sat beside him and watched silently, as Ron grinned and leant forward.

"Three guesses what it is, Harry," he joked, "and the first two don't count."

Hermione threw a pillow at him.

Harry ignored the little spate and continued to untie Hermione's gift, still finding it strange that she wanted to get him another one, separate from the joint watch she'd shared with Ron. The yellowed paper fell away as the last strand of string was pulled, and Harry held, surprisingly, a rectangular box in his hands.

"Hermione, what – ?"

"Just open it, Harry," Hermione cut in, though smiling at him. Harry gave her a swift, searching look, before obliging and gently prying the box open…

"Wow, Hermione…" he breathed, reaching in and drawing out a stunning silver necklace. It shimmered entrancingly in the dim light, but Harry's eyes were drawn to the charm hanging from the tight-linked chain. It was a shield, and emblazed on the silver surface was a stunning Phoenix, made from tiny particles of ruby and gold. Its wings were outstretched and touched each corner, while the long tail reached to the bottom point. The small shield was no larger than Harry thumbnail, yet the image was so exquisite it showed perfect detail.

"Hermione I – I don't know what to say … it's – " Harry stammered, running his thumb gently over the gift. "It's beautiful … Thank you."

Hermione smiled, ignoring the way Ron was goggling at the gift. "You're welcome. Put it on."

Harry laughed nervously. "I don't know, Hermione. I'm almost afraid to wear it in case I'll ruin it or something…"

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Harry," Hermione slapped him good-naturedly on the arm, before gently taking the necklace from his fingers. "Turn around," she ordered, motioning for him to turn his back on her.

Harry hesitated for a moment, still unsure about actually wearing such a gift, but still turned obligingly to face the wall. He saw the chain drop over his head, as Hermione reached over him, before he felt the slight weight of the shield resting against his breastbone. Harry waited for a moment, as he felt Hermione's fingers brushing against his neck while she fixed the clasp, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt her hands withdraw and he turned back to face her, looking down as the fine piece of jewellery rested lightly against his skin.

"You didn't have to get me this, Hermione," he said quietly, fingering the shield as he turned his eyes to the young lady beside him. "I would have been happy with the watch …"

"I wanted to get it for you," Hermione answered matter-of-factly. "So don't go thinking I put myself out for it."

Harry nodded and thanked her again, before taking note of the time and suggesting that they get ready to go down to Dinner.

Ron tore his eyes from the necklace and quickly agreed, and Hermione soon left to get ready in her own room. Harry pulled out a simple navy blue skivvy, and a set of jeans, pulling the chain from under the shirt after he pulled it on, and tying up his trainers as he waited for Ron to get ready.

As he sat, Harry debated with himself furiously, on when he was going to drop the bombshell and tell Ron and Hermione about his being an Avatar. Plus what Severus had told him about what his Mother had done, in hiding his true appearance from the world. He leant forward, fisting his hands in his hair. The biggest problem was that he didn't know how they would react to such a shock. He _believed_ that Hermione might accept it a little more readily than Ron would; Harry wasn't sure. He still remembered the differences in reaction when they all found out that Remus was a Werewolf, and Ron's was bordering on utter revulsion at the idea.

Leaning against the wall, Harry resolved that he would need to find out their separate opinions on non-human magical beings, before actually saying anything to them about himself. He wondered if his two friends even knew what an Avatar was? He was sure that Hermione would know, and Severus had told him that the Wizarding community knew what Avatar's were supposed to be, so Ron should have some idea as well. Not that that was a good thing. Hermione will have read what the authors biased opinion was, and Ron's view will have been twisted by whatever horrible things he's heard.

The next hurdle will be showing them what he should have looked like all his life, and explaining it all to them. _Maybe I should start off with that?_ Harry thought idly, mulling it over in his mind. _It would be a softer blow, after all. It's not like a different face makes me an abomination of nature…_

Harry nodded to his internal discussion, deciding to start an apparently innocent conversation about magical beings, in order to discover Ron and Hermione's opinions about them, then showing them his real face. He knew he would tell them about being an Avatar as well … but he had to know what they would think of him first.

Harry looked at his watch, wondering what was taking Ron so long. Standing, he made towards the bathroom door, only to catch sight of himself in the mirror on the wall as he went. He nearly died with shock. Sometime during his musings, Harry had shifted back into his real form, not concentrating enough on holding his 'other Harry' form. He was still inexperienced, and had to have some kind of hold over his shifting for a while, until he learned how to hold the different forms even in his sleep, or unconscious.

"Shit!" he cursed, scowling deeply at himself, starting to change back to his older form, when he stopped. Harry felt his heart leap to his throat, as he stared at his real face in the mirror. 

He knew who his father was.

It had all been in front of him the whole time, but he'd had so much on his mind that he never placed it together until now. It was his scowl that turned on the light in his mind, for it made Harry look exactly like a younger Potions Master. Harry rubbed his forehead, feeling it start to ache with the revelation … yet … Harry couldn't decide if he should be happy at the discovery, considering the new ground himself and Severus had treaded upon, or if he should look for the slimy rapist, beating him into next week for what he did not only to his mother, but for the fact that he was refusing to acknowledge that he was Harry's father.

That very moment, Harry resolved to play as ignorant as his father was. He refused to acknowledge the man as the one who fathered him, until he came forward on his own and admitted it.

__

Maybe he doesn't want _to admit it?_ A voice at the back of Harry's mind suddenly piped up. _After all … you are only one of Voldemort's cast-off's. Why would he have any interest in you?_

Harry bit his lip, feeling the emptiness in his chest expand even more at the thought. _That little episode this morning and down at the Lake were only acts, _the voice continued maliciously. _He's a _Deatheater_ for crying out loud! You're not worth anything to him! He's just playing with your mind, getting you to trust and feel comfortable with him, only to rip it all away when the time is right…_

"But he's Dumbledore's spy," Harry whispered to no one, his deep voice filled with unexplainable emotion. "He's not really like that…"

__

Look at how he's treated you ever since you got to Hogwarts! He treated you worse than dirt, and all of a sudden he's all Mother Hen? Don't be an idiot! At least the Dursley's didn't try and deceive you … they've done nothing but tell you the facts about yourself. You are _a freak of nature, and your own maker saw you as a filthy piece of garbage not worth his time… Why would _Snape_ want you…?_

"He doesn't want me," Harry answered, staring emotionlessly into the mirror, his voice a mere rasp. "I'm just the trouble-making Golden Boy of Gryffindor …… Nothing to want there…" Swallowing the lump in his throat, and feeling very bitter all of a sudden, Harry glared at his reflection, grinding his teeth in an effort to control his growing anger. Forgetting about Ron, Harry turned around, not hearing sharp crack as the mirror was broken in two, and strode purposefully towards the door, wanting to spend some time alone to think.

Grasping the latch, Harry pulled the door sharply, and ploughed straight into Hermione (who was just about to open the door from the other side), knocking her to the floor and making him stumble.

Harry was just regaining his bearings, when he realised who it was he'd run into. Turning, Harry saw that Hermione was currently just sitting up, groaning and rubbing her head. Instantly, he forgot about his brooding session, and stepped toward her, bending over and helping her to her feet.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" he asked setting her on her feet. "I'm really sorry about that, I wasn't looking."

Hermione shook her head and then looked toward him, seeming a little uneasy, before raising her eyes up to meet his own. At six foot one, Harry towered over Hermione, who stood at around five foot four. Harry felt his brow crease when she took a sudden step away from him.

"Um … that's all right, thanks," Hermione said to him, obviously cautious. "Do I know you?"

Harry took in a sharp breath, remembering that he was still in his real form too late. He opened his mouth to speak, when Ron suddenly emerged from his room, looking between Hermione and Harry.

"Hermione, have you seen Harry? He's not here…" Ron trailed off, his eyes travelling over Harry, who stood an inch taller than Ron. "Who are you?" he asked bluntly, his hand straying to where Harry knew he kept his wand.

"I'll let you have a guess, Ron," Harry answered, feeling mischievous all of a sudden, even though he knew the situation was quite serious. He almost smiled as Ron's jaw dropped at the sound of his name.

"How do you know my name?" he demanded, sounding both angry and worried.

"He knew mine too," Hermione added, not taking her eyes from Harry, eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. She didn't sound accusatory, but seemed to be thinking avidly. "And for some reason … you seem very familiar to me," she directed at Harry, dropping her defensiveness and taking a step forward. "Do we know you?"

Harry contemplated her question, wondering how he should answer it. They did know him, but they didn't know the real him … so in a sense, they _didn't_ know him…

"In a way," he decided to say, folding his arms over his powerful chest. "We're all familiar with the same people though. Mainly the teaching staff, the Headmaster … you get the idea."

Hermione gave him an appraising look. "Why were you in Harry's room?"

Harry smiled, "Try and guess," he said. "How about we go down to the Great Hall for Dinner, and you two can take as many guesses as you want on the way?" With that, Harry stepped past Hermione and headed down the hall. Ever since his transformation, Harry's senses were much more acute, and it was for this reason that he could hear the semi whispered conversation between Ron and Hermione.

"…So, what? Do we follow and try and worm it out of him?" Ron asked, sounding befuddled.

"But, what about Harry?" Hermione replied worriedly. "He can't have just disappeared? We need to find him. We don't even know if we can trust this person, and you're willing to follow him at the drop of a hat!"

There was a pause.

"He seems all right, though," said Ron, "and it feels like I've met him before. Looks familiar too, come to think of it…?"

"He does, doesn't he?" Hermione replied, sounding as though her resolve was wavering, taken over by her insatiable curiosity. "Fine. We'll try and get some stuff out of him, but we're looking for Harry as soon as Dinner's over. The last thing we need is the Teachers worrying over where he is, which they will anyway when he doesn't show up with us!"

Harry almost laughed out loud and slowed his gait, hearing two sets of footsteps heading towards him. The next moment, Harry saw Ron appear beside him on his left, while Hermione materialized at his right.

"Enjoy your chat?" Harry asked politely, looking at each of them in turn. He was very glad that his longer hair covered his scar at the moment. Having it revealed would just take all the fun out of it. They walked for some time in silence, and Harry could tell that Ron and Hermione were both wondering who would ask the first question. Harry resolved that on his own.

"Hermione, first question please?"

"What's your name?" she asked instantly, as though she'd been itching to, but didn't want to appear rude. "You still haven't told us."

"Ah … yes, well…" Harry stammered, clearing his throat before looking at Hermione. "That is a very valid question, but I'm afraid that I don't know the answer yet."

Hermione's eyebrows disappeared into her fringe. "You don't know your name? How is that possible?"

"You'd be surprised," Harry muttered a little darkly, remembering his meeting with Snape about his name. But, Snape should be at Dinner… "I myself should find out my name tonight, so then we'll both know."

"How do you know us?" Ron asked this time, eager to ask his question. "And why do you seem so familiar? I'm pretty sure we've never even seen each other before…"

"You're right," Harry answered. "We haven't seen each other before. But yes, I know you, and Harry. I met Harry only a few days ago, and he's told me all about you both. Seeing how no other students are supposed to be here, I guessed at who you were. I was obviously right."

"All right then," Hermione started eagerly, "How do you know Harry? How did you meet him?"

Harry smirked. "You could say we just, bumped into each other. We were both in the Infirmary being treated and just started talking to each other."

The great Hall came into view before Hermione finally asked her last question.

"Why don't you know your name?"

Harry paused, unsure on how to answer, but soon developing an acceptable one, which held some truth.

"Because I woke up for the first time in a very, _very_, long time, only about three days ago. I don't remember it, so I'm getting a new one."

Hermione looked at the ground, abashed. "I'm sorry … I shouldn't've asked…"

"It's all right," Harry assured, smiling softly. "I like it here, and everyone has been quite understanding."

There was an awkward silence, as they stood in the Entrance Hall, hearing some of the chattering between the Professors drifting out.

"Just one more question, if you don't mind that is?" Hermione seemed nervous all of a sudden, and Harry was wondering why. Driven by curiosity, he nodded. "Would it be possible for you to tell us, why Harry was in the Infirmary? He never mentioned it, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him today, while we were swimming… so… do you know?"

Harry looked down at her, seeing that Hermione was quite concerned. He looked at Ron, who seemed anxious for an answer as well, before sighing and shaking his head.

"I won't tell you that, because it is not my place," he answered quietly, sparing them one more glance each before brushing past them and striding towards the Great Hall. "He'll tell you when he's ready to," he added over his shoulder, opening the Double Doors and walking in.

Harry headed straight for the Head Table, picking up his pace so he could get there before Ron and Hermione walked through the doors. He saw Dumbledore look up just as he got near the end of the House Tables, blinking with mild surprise, before smiling in welcome.

"Harry … nice to see you as you. I take it you've told Miss Granger and Mr Weasley about yourself then?"

"No, sir, I haven't," he replied, letting a grin touch his lips as the professors present fell silent at the proclamation.

Remus, who was sitting beside McGonagall, on Dumbledore's left, looked confused. "Well then why are you here like this? Shouldn't you change back?"

At that moment, the two said students walked into the hall, appearing a little nervous, and thankfully out of earshot.

"Well actually," Harry explained quickly, noticing the flicked eyes as his friends entered, "It was sort of an accident. I drifted off for a bit and shifted back naturally, so I made up that I woke up in the Ward three days ago, and I don't know my name, and I remember nothing about my life before. I met 'Harry' while in the Ward, explaining why I knew who they were. I'm supposed to receive my new name tonight." At this, Harry pointedly looked at Snape, who seemed to be listening to the little game with some sort of amusement. The Potions Master held his gaze, but then nodded.

"I will tell you in private…"

"I would prefer everyone knew, Professor, so they know who they'd be referring to when someone mentions me, in this form…. If you don't mind?"

Snape didn't get to answer, as by that time, Ron and Hermione had come far enough to overhear their conversation.

Harry turned and nodded to them, before striding around the table and sitting down next to Remus, even though he'd sat next to Snape for the past few days. This made Remus frown at him questioningly, while McGonagall and Dumbledore shared a look. Snape kept his eyes on Harry for a few moments, clearly unsure about the new arrangement. He looked at the seat beside him, where Harry had sat the past couple of meals, then looked over at Dumbledore. The Headmaster shrugged almost unnoticeably, before he directed Ron and Hermione to their own seats.

Harry sat, playing with his food for the most of Dinner, not really feeling hungry, knowing that Snape was casting questioning glances towards him from the other side of Dumbledore. He didn't really care. 

"Hey, Harry," Remus started, leaning over and speaking lowly into his ear. "I noticed your change of seating."

"So?"

Remus seemed a little taken aback with the curt tone, but Harry didn't care. Remus knew that Snape was his father as well, and didn't seem to want him to know either.

"I'm sorry, Harry … I was just curious why you didn't sit next to Severus like you have been? Did something happen?"

Harry just glanced sideways, frowning. "Maybe," he growled, intending to sound spiteful. He didn't care if Remus figured it out, because he knew he wouldn't tell anyone, but that didn't stop him from being angry with him. "But it's none of your business, so I'm not going to tell you – " Harry stopped, and changed his mined. "No, scratch that – It's not your business but you _are_ involved. I'll just leave it at that, and see if you figure it out…"

Harry turned back to his meal and ignored everything he heard around him, intent on brooding much like his … _Don't call him that! He's not your Father until he admits what he did and who he is to you!_ Harry scowled at his inner voice, hating how it materialized from nowhere. He was forever warring with himself over everything. It was like he was two separate personalities constantly battling for the same mind.

Sighing, Harry leaned back in his chair and put his fork down, feeling a weariness he'd only ever experienced at the Dursley's settle upon him. He hated feeling this way, and sometimes it scared him. It was a weariness of existing, of putting up with what he considered a good example of Hell … and he'd had thoughts in the past of just giving up. It would be a release … a peace of mind that he'd never had before. It was so tempting ……

A jab in the ribs brought Harry out of his depressive musings, alerting him to the ending of Dinner. He hastily regained his composure, before looking up at Dumbledore, who had risen from his chair, and was currently taking a slip of parchment from Snape.

"What's going on, Remus?" Harry whispered, leaning backwards, towards the Werewolf.

"Albus just told us that he was going to announce your new name," he answered just as quietly, sounding distinctly amused. "Do you have a twin we don't know about?"

Harry ignored the question and focussed instead on Dumbledore, who had opened the small piece of parchment. A slight raise of an eyebrow later, Dumbledore folded the parchment again and handed it back to Snape.

"Well, my boy," Dumbledore started, turning towards Harry, "It seems as though we can actually call you by a name after tonight. Professor Snape has kindly chosen a name for you, and I hope you will find it satisfactory…"

Harry glanced at Snape, seeing the normal emotionless mask plastered to his sallow face, before returning his gaze to the Headmaster.

"I'm sure I will," he replied, gesturing for Dumbledore to get on with it.

Nodding, Dumbledore motioned for Harry to stand. "For the last few days, we've called this young man, John Doe … using the same name Muggles use when identifying people with no memories of who they are, or are unknown to all. As of right now, however, he will be known as, Callen Emrys. Glad to have you with us … _Callen_ …"

Harry nodded, smiling politely as Ron and Hermione came over and greeted him by his 'name'. He looked over at Snape, meeting his gaze. _Callen Emrys …… Snape. Doesn't sound too bad, actually…_

Soon the small crowd dispersed, off to do whatever until they turn in for the night. Harry wandered the halls, thinking about what he would do with Ron and Hermione, now that they thought he was someone else entirely. If he told them the truth, they'd blow their top at him for lying to them … but if he continued to string them along, the sting of his actions would hurt them even more severely, the longer he waited.

He scowled, scuffing his trainers against the stone floor. Turns out his little flare of mischievousness will end up doing more harm than good.

Looking up, Harry was surprised to find himself at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower. He frowned at where his feet had unconsciously taken him, as tempting as it seemed. Harry took a shaky breath before forcing his feet in the opposite direction, wondering only briefly if falling from such a height would even kill him, now that he'd transformed? He knew so little about what his body was capable of, or withstand, and it was annoying him to no end. He need to know his limits, so he knew not to exceed them…

Feeling a set of eyes on him, Harry stopped walking abruptly, spinning suddenly to look behind him. He saw nothing in the dimness of the cold hall, but the sensation of eyes fixed on him wouldn't leave. Nerves now on edge, Harry turned and continued on his previous path, looking over his shoulder every now and then. He turned down a particularly dark corridor, hoping to lose whatever was following him in the gloom. Sliding behind a statue, Harry peered through the figures arms, in order to see if his shadower would appear.

He waited a minute, before something incredibly silent slinked around the corner … yet Harry couldn't see it. He could hear the soft footfalls of something that sounded like an animal of some kind; something that was almost a given when Harry heard small growling noises from a point at the end of the hall.

Endeavouring to keep his breathing quiet and steady, despite the fact that his heart was beating so loudly he was surprised it didn't give away his location, Harry squinted his eyes, trying to see anything that told him what was hunting him. He could see a slight shimmering in the air … so faint that even he was having trouble seeing it. A small shimmer of light appeared, but it was gone just as quickly. The creature was moving down the hall, coming ever closer to his location.

Harry felt his eyes widen, however, when the creature reached the darkest area of the hall, where the torches had burnt out. A soon as it reached the blackness, Harry could see the outlines and form of a catlike creature, glowing dimly in the deep gloom. It was quite large, roughly the size of a tiger, but with the likeness of a panther, or leopard, and he knew that the only reason he could see it at all was due to his enhanced eyesight.

If it wasn't hunting him, Harry would have called it a beautiful specimen.

***

Severus could have grinned when he spotted Harry crouched behind a statue of Salazar Slytherin himself. After the Avatar had failed to show for they're after dinner meeting, Severus took it upon himself to go look for him. Although he hated Voldemort with a vengeance, he would always relish being one of the test subjects for the Avatarial Program. He'd only ever been tested twice, but the powers he'd gained where well worth the painful experience.

Invisibility, and an almost supernatural strength and stamina. He was one of only three Deatheaters during that time, still alive to take advantage of his abilities. All of the others had died from overload … volunteering for the testing one too many times for their bodies to handle. Thank the Lord that to be tested was completely voluntary. Probably the only time Voldemort had let them have free will.

Snape looked over at Harry again, remembering the way he used to prowl the halls in his Animagus form: that of a rather large Panther. It was a huge help that he could turn invisible at will … terrifying the students he caught by appearing seemingly from nowhere. It was quite satisfying. He crept forward more, and noticed that Harry seemed to be looking straight at him? How was that possible? He should be completely undetectable … it was then that Severus remembered the sensory enhancements that an Avatar was supposed to experience.

"_That would explain it then,_" he thought, coming to a stop and deciding to wait Harry out. He knew that Harry could at least partially see him, and it definitely explained why Harry seemed so nervous at the moment. He thought he was being stalked. Severus knew that playing with Harry would be fun … but it would also be quite dangerous to his health, especially as how Harry had no idea what or who he was.

"_Ok, Harry … I'll show you I don't intend to harm you…_" Snape slowly got to his feet; wincing, as he smelt the fear that Harry was exhibiting. He let out a small, friendly growl, before shedding his invisibility, letting Harry see him completely. Harry blinked in surprise, before hesitantly standing up and stepping toward him. He looked up and down the hall, as though determining that there was no ambush waiting for him, before taking another step.

Snape purred lightly, taking a step towards Harry as well. "_Don't worry, Harry,_" he thought, hoping to tell him that he wasn't a threat. "_I'm not here to hurt you…_"

Harry's eyes widened alarmingly, and he suddenly froze, staring at Severus, who was wondering what was wrong with him. "_Harry what's wrong?_"

Severus started when Harry yelped and stepped away from him as though afraid. Slightly alarmed, Snape took a step towards Harry, only to stop when Harry drew his wand on him.

"What the hell are you?!!" Harry hissed, speaking directly to him, sounding half hysterical. "How did you do that?? What do you want??"

Feeling a good amount of alarm, Severus looked as confused as a cat could, wondering what on earth the boy was talking about?

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Harry screeched, jabbing his wand in his direction. "You did it just then!!"

Snape froze. "_You can hear me?_" he thought, deliberately directing his thoughts toward the wild boy. "_You understand what I'm thinking at you?_"

"It's a bit obvious, seeing how I can answer you!" Harry replied, still looking panicky. "Now what the hell are you and what do you want!"

Snape knew that he had to tell Harry exactly who he was, and resigned himself to explaining how he got this way. But he didn't mind, if it meant he could spend some more time with his son. He still didn't know why Harry had been so cold toward him at Dinner, nor why he deliberately missed their planned rendezvous in the Dungeons.

"_I'm just a normal, unregistered Animagus, Harry … and you know who I am as well. I was just looking for you, and as you can plainly see, I found you…_"

Harry shook his head, his wand as steady as ever. "I don't know any Animagi that's a Panther! And I certainly don't know one that can turn invisible!!"

Snape sighed, shaking his large head. "_Then I will just show you…_" With that thought, Snape shed his panther guise, and with a small pop, changed back into himself, still dressed in his black button down shirt and trousers.

Harry's jaw dropped, along with his wand arm, and he stood there, absolutely floored. "Snape!!" he gasped, his eyes sliding from head to toe, as though determining he wasn't a figment of his imagination.

"Snape?" Severus responded, strangely quiet. "I thought I told you that I was permitting you to use my given name … Callen…"

"You did," Harry answered, still seeming a little rattled by what had just happened. "I just … um … It's nothing, Severus." He shot him an uneasy smile. "Old habits die hard, I suppose…"

Severus inspected Harry for a moment, seeing that he was quite panicked by his presence earlier. "I'm sorry I startled you, Callen, but I only went looking for you because you never showed for our meeting." He saw Harry swallow nervously. "Why didn't you come? And for that matter, why did you feel it necessary to direct your feet towards the Astronomy Tower?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Just thinking," he answered, looking at his feet. "Must've lost track of the time…"

Snape raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the new watch that adorned Harry's wrist. "Undoubtedly," he replied, letting some of his old iciness seep into his voice. "If you think you can just string me along, and make some kind of fool of me, _Callen_, then you are sorely mistaken."

"I wasn't doing anything to you!" Harry bit out harshly, his eyes flashing. "I just … needed some time to think about stuff…" Harry trailed off, looking frustrated about something. Severus could see that it was an important issue to Harry, but after having the boy skip out on him, he found he didn't really care as much as he might have before. It didn't matter what the boy looked like … for he would always have the arrogant air of a snobby Gryffindor about him.

"Fine then, _Mr Potter_ … if you are not going to put any effort into improving our working relationship, I recommend you forget everything that happened today, and we go back to how we were. At least then it will be more satisfying for me, rather than coddling some freak of nature who can't even hold himself up against a mere Muggle…"

Snape smiled at Harry maliciously, a part of him enjoying the despairing emotions that flitted across Harry's face as he spoke … but the small part of himself that had been reawakened that morning, as he held a frightened Harry to his chest, was screaming at him to stop, to take it all back, to reassure the near broken boy in front of him that yet another person wasn't giving up on him.

"Seeing how you treat those that are willing to help you," Snape spat instead, "it's a shame you didn't die when you were meant to…"

Not waiting for Harry to react or speak, Snape swivelled and stormed back towards the Dungeons, feeling both pleased at giving Harry a tongue lashing, and shameful at demeaning the abused boy even further. He knew he lost his temper, and perhaps taken the situation to the extreme … but he wouldn't let him be disobedient and rebellious either.

Snape stopped walking and stood in the middle of the corridor, two floors from where he'd run into Harry; hands on hips and sighing heavily. Damn the boy for giving him something akin to a conscience! He'd worked for so long to be rid of it, and all of a sudden it pops back into his mind!

Just as he was contemplating turning back around and apologizing for his words, Snape heard a sound that made his blood run as ice through his veins. A blearing siren had just gone off in the back of his mind. Only the Professors would hear it, but Snape didn't care. His blood rushed through his ears and his heart pounded with terror as he sprinted back up the corridors, heading for where he'd first seen Harry that night.

Snape prayed that it was all a mistake, because if it wasn't, he knew that he was ultimately responsible. For the alarm resounding through his mind meant only one thing.

A living body had fallen from the Astronomy Tower.


	17. A Second Chance

****

Chapter Seventeen: A Second Chance

Harry fought off the sudden rise of moisture in his eyes, as he watched Snape storm down the hall, turning his back on him as he should have known he would. A clenching sensation had enfolded his chest, and an abyss of emptiness seemed to swallow his heart. It had taken so little for Snape to give up on their new working relationship, that Harry knew for sure that he wasn't worth the effort of keeping it going.

Trying to still his unsteady breathing, the despondent feelings from Dinner rising in force, Harry set off toward the Astronomy Tower as soon as Snape had vanished from his sight. It wasn't worth it anymore. He was tired of hurting the people he loved, and being the one responsible for placing so many in danger. And now he'd blatantly thrown Snape's kindness back at his face…

Harry only realized he'd been running when he stumbled out into the biting night air, feeling the sheen of sweat on his face, mingled with unnoticed tears, sting the skin of his cheeks. His chest heaving, not with exertion but with pent up emotion, Harry looked up at the crystal clear sky, taking in his (hopefully) last look at the inkiness splattered with pinpricks of light.

He stepped forward, toward the chest high stone ledge that surrounded the top of the Tower, feeling a strange sense of closure as he easily climbed onto it, overlooking the forbidden forest and the grounds of the only place he'd considered a home. Harry felt his long hair whip about his face in the strong breeze, and let his eyes drift downward, staring at the solid ground so far below him. A slight glittering moved Harry's gaze to his chest, and a sadness filled him when he saw the gifts Ron and Hermione had given him just that morning.

He knew it wasn't fair on them, what he was wanting to do … but Harry reasoned that they would probably turn their backs on him anyway, once they were told what he was. Sighing, Harry removed the watch and necklace, placing them both just by his feet. He didn't want to ruin anything as precious as them.

Harry closed his eyes, sending a silent apology to those he knew would be most affected by his death, before taking a deep breath, and leaping from the castle.

Almost instantly, Harry felt the activation of strong magic, as he plummeted downward, the ground growing ever closer as the wind whistled in his ears. He briefly wondered what it meant, before his mind went blissfully blank; the knowledge that he would finally find peace, as his eternal sleep came rushing toward him.

At the last minute, Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the darkness to enfold his tormented soul … but it didn't come. All of a sudden, Harry felt himself come to an abrupt halt in midair, before being shot skyward again. He opened his eyes and saw the ground get further away, as he flew in a graceful arc and landed heavily near the border of the Forest.

Severely dazed, as he'd fully expected to be dead at the moment, Harry slowly sat up, inwardly howling with rage as his chance for peace was taken from him. What had happened? As Harry's mind caught up with him, he stood shakily, reasoning that he'd seemed to land on some kind of invisible cushion that doubled as a trampoline.

A sudden wave of fury abruptly washed over Harry, making him tremble with the effort of containing it. He balled his fists and ground his teeth, as a howling misery accompanied the anger. Nothing ever went right!! Never!! He couldn't even off himself properly!!

Harry's breathing was extremely erratic, as he tried to keep his temper in check … but it did no good. Desperate to release the overwhelming fury, Harry turned to the nearest tree, and letting loose a roar of pure, undiluted rage and wretchedness, Harry drew back his fist and hurled it with all his might at the trunk — 

The bark and wood splintered with the contact, showering Harry with slithers of timber as the whole section of trunk he'd struck seemingly exploded; almost reducing to sawdust the area around his hand plus at least a foot in every direction.

Harry jumped back, startled by the extent of the damage he'd inflicted on the innocent evergreen. Some small branches and twigs were falling from above him, as the force of the blow had caused enough vibrations to shake them loose. Harry looked up and saw that the top of the fifty foot tree was swaying.

Instead of feeling reassured or impressed with this display of strength, Harry was shaking his head with the utmost horror. Imagine what he could do to a person if he wasn't careful…

A sudden light appeared in the corner of Harry's eye, and he turned to see Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall hurry along the perimeter of the castle; wands lit and searching the ground where he should have landed. Instantly feeling incredibly ashamed by his attempt, Harry darted further into the trees, though still making sure he could see the scene unfold.

Upon reaching Harry's intended landing point, Dumbledore and McGonagall seemed stunned, before regaining their wits and scanning the nearby area; the light from their wands sweeping the terrain.

"I … I don't understand, Albus," Harry heard McGonagall call, her voice sounding strained horribly. "There's no … I mean – there should be a – " her voice faltered and cracked, the sound of which making Harry feel even guiltier. "Albus, who do you suppose it could have been?"

Harry watched as the beam from Dumbledore's wand swept dangerously close to his location, before it was extinguished, with the headmaster walking over toward the distraught Transfiguration Professor.

"I'm not sure, Minerva," he answered heavily, still gazing toward the bottom of the tower. "Though I do have my suspicions, no matter how much I wish otherwise…"

"But … why is there nothing here? Nothing would live through a fall like that…"

"It would seem that there is indeed a first time for everything," Dumbledore replied, though his voice didn't contain the humour that Harry was accustomed to hearing. He sounded incredibly tired all of a sudden, and Harry refused to watch anymore.

He turned around and quietly walked deeper into the forest, not worrying about any animals as they'd left him alone the last time he ventured into it's gloom. He hadn't really thought out everyone's reaction to what he'd decided to do, believing that they'd only be a little upset by it … but he hadn't intended to cause them such an acute feeling of distress. Even in feeling his own peace, Harry realized that it would mean so much pain for everyone he knew well. He didn't want them to feel that.

A dense fog had started to roll in, the moisture in the air dampening his clothes and hair, making it cling to him even more than before. He didn't know how long he'd walked absently for, but as Harry swatted his damp hair from his eyes he almost regretted not paying attention.

He was lost, and the dense fog was obscuring his vision, making it impossible to identify any landmarks he might recognise. Harry shivered, as the biting cold air seeped through the dampness of his clothing. He shook his head, cursing himself for his own stupidity. _Turns out I don't have to jump from Towers to get what I want … I'll just die from exposure instead…_

Snorting, Harry shook his head again, before deciding to try and find some semblance of shelter, before he caught pneumonia. He was feeling chilled to the core, but he also noted that he should have been suffering from something like hyperthermia by now. He wasn't as cold as he should have been, despite the fact that he wasn't wearing a jacket, or any warm clothing to speak of.

__

Probably another ability… Harry thought absently, climbing over a fallen log. A flash of light in the distance brought Harry's eyes to the sky. Some time during however long he'd been wandering around, the clear sky had been covered with mutinous looking clouds, threatening to dump their load on his head. That was all he needed … to be soaked to the bone _while_ it was freezing and he had no shelter.

"This day just keeps getting better," Harry muttered, spotting something that looked like a trail of some sort just in front of him. He could tell that this path was frequently travelled … but that brought Harry little assurance. It was also very clear that humans did not use this track. Harry frowned as he inspected the trail closer, squinting in the almost non-existent light.

There was a very old and rusted lantern casing lying in the middle of the track. Carefully, Harry picked it up, recognising it to be the one he'd used on his very first trip into the Forest, accompanied by Malfoy.

"The very first time I saw my maker…" Harry whispered, remembering the night he'd stumbled upon the Voldemort - possessed Quirrell, as he drunk the blood of a Unicorn. He smiled as the terrified scream of Malfoy rang through his mind, remembering how he'd run at top speed followed closely by Hagrid's boarhound, Fang.

"We meet again, Harry Potter," a deep voice suddenly spoke from behind him. Harry whirled around, drawing his wand in a flash, and stepped back in alarm at the unexpectedness of what he saw.

The next moment, however, Harry felt a wide smile grace his face, as the initial shock wore off. He recognized his surprise companion…

"Good evening, Firenze," Harry answered in response. He put his wand away a little sheepishly. "Err … sorry about that, you startled me…"

The pale Centaur stepped forward more, and Harry saw him shake his head. "No apologies necessary, Harry Potter. It was mere reflex." Firenze came close enough so Harry could see his face, which, he noted, was as impassive as it was the first night he ever saw him. "As the Wizard school is most deserted this time of year, Harry Potter, I query on why I find you here? Are you looking for something?"

The way the Centaur asked Harry this, made him believe that he knew something about what had happened recently in the school. This made Harry take a slow step back and lower his head, shaking it. He really didn't want anyone to know about what he was…

The soft sound of hooves on ground, sounded deafening in the gloomy clearing, but Harry didn't look up again until the hooves reached his feet, and a rough hand gently lifted his chin. Firenze's face seemed calm, almost indifferent, but his startling blue eyes held reassurance.

"Do not close yourself to those who hold you close, Avatar. If they truly care, they will care not about what you are, but remember who you still are. It must be kept hidden, yes … but do not be ashamed of what you were born for. You have the power to stop the Dark Lord in his tracks. Embrace it. Learn from it. It is all in your true nature, so follow your instincts. They will never lead you astray."

The words were spoken so softly, yet they affected Harry as though they'd been screamed at him. How the Centaur had brought out such a swell of emotion from him, Harry didn't understand … yet his words made perfect sense. He would tell Ron and Hermione about his powers, and who his father was … even though he didn't want to admit it himself. If they were his friends, they would look past the surface, to who they knew he was underneath. As to being powerful enough to stop Voldemort, Harry was unsure. He hadn't attained his full power yet, and didn't know his capabilities … but something in him was yearning for the hunt … the battle. It was a small calling, but Harry still felt it. It had been there ever since he'd Awakened.

"Thank you, Firenze," Harry took a step back, in order to see his face better. "You're right. I shouldn't hide it from the people I care about. It's who I am, and I should accept that," Harry looked up as the first splatters of rain began to fall through the canopy, biting at his already chilled skin. "I believe I have to return to the School now, but I can't thank you enough for your advice." Harry didn't know what to do, so he held out his hand to the Centaur.

"There is no need for thanks, Avatar," Firenze replied, after glancing at Harry's hand curiously. "All require guidance at some time, and the stars beckoned me here tonight. Unlike most of my brethren, I see no harm in helping those that truly require it." The Centaur nodded his head to Harry in a mock bow, before turning and heading back into the Forest, the rain plastering his fur and hair to the sleek palomino body. "The Final Battle draws near, Avatar," he called over his shoulder, his body obscured by the growing mist. "You must prepare yourself. I wish you luck…"

Harry swatted his wet hair out of his eyes, and smiled gently as the gloom swallowed the Centaur. He was happy he ran into him tonight, for Harry knew that he did indeed need guidance. With all that had happened to him, he'd felt a mess; a jumble of emotions and thoughts that were pulling him in every direction. Now he had somewhere to start. Had things put in their place, and in perspective. He had an ultimate goal to achieve.

Sighing, Harry set off on the path he remembered taking as a First Year, on his way back towards Hogwarts. He dreaded the explaining he would have to do, but he owed it to them for putting them through such distress in the first place.

"I'm an idiot," Harry muttered, recalling his attempt on his life. How could he have done something so selfish?

"My thoughts exactly," a familiar voice resounded from just in front of him, making Harry jump at first, but then look away, biting his lip. Of all the people ……

He saw Snape materialize in his peripheral vision, as he negated his personal invisibility, and slowly walk towards him.

"How did you find me?" Harry asked, wincing at the emotion in his voice. Their last conversation replayed through Harry's mind, and he didn't want the older man to know how much his words had stung.

Snape didn't answer, but stepped right up to Harry. He slowly lift his hand, pausing as Harry tensed, but kept going until his hand rested against Harry's cheek. Startled by the gentle gesture, Harry looked up at Snape, his throat constricting as he saw the turmoil of emotion in the onyx eyes. Harry looked away, but kept the warm palm to his cheek. A part of him wanted to flee, terrified of what Snape might say to him in spite … but another part wished to remain, to drink in the small sliver of affection he had received from Severus, to break down and release all he was feeling.

A rustle of clothing reached Harry's ears over the downpour of rain, and the next Harry knew, he was enfolded in a gentle embrace, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, locking him to the body of his father, while the hand on his cheek shifted and laced through his long raven locks, directing his head to rest on the offered shoulder. Harry was shaking with the effort to constrain his building torrent of emotion, but as soon as a warm breath touched his ear, muttering two little words, "I'm sorry," Harry caved, burying his face in Snape's shoulder as he let his arms snake about his waist.

*****

Severus felt a piece of his cold exterior vanish forever, as he let Harry cry on his shoulder. He remembered the intense panic that had taken hold of him, when the warding on the Astronomy Tower was activated…

__

Sprinting as fast as he was able, Severus tore back up through the corridors, taking stairs two at a time in his panic driven haste. He prayed that it was a false alarm, but a piece of him knew that the possibility was frighteningly real. Seeing the door that lead to the Astronomy Tower ajar, he put on a fresh burst of speed, almost ripping the door from its hinges as he ploughed into it.

The air bit at his exposed skin, when he skidded to a stop at the already open door, feeling a well of emptiness open in his gut at the sight of the deserted parapet. His breathing hitched in his throat, as he let his gaze sweep the circular area, knowing that there was no living thing in his company. Raising a shaky hand to his face, Severus quickly stepped toward the chest high barrier, leaning over resolutely to see if his fears would be confirmed.

Still leaning over he continued around the edge of the Tower, until he saw two items sitting on top of the barrier that made his heart freeze.

The necklace and watch that he'd seen Harry wear at dinner that night.

Scooping the items up, Severus tried to blink away the prickling he could feel in his eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen! He'd only wanted the boy to see sense, not to upset him to such an extent that he'd throw himself from the castle!

He shut his eyes. He never even told Harry that he was his father … never even tried to see if such a relationship between them would work.

He wished he did.

A sudden crashing sound reached his ears, making Severus open his eyes and turn to see the origin, only to find a tree almost directly in front of the area he was standing, shaking as though struck with enormous force.

A sliver of hope crept into the emptiness, as Severus quickly focused his eyes on the ground near the base of the tree. "Occulous Focula," he muttered, directing the wand to his eyes, making his vision as sharp as a hawk and able to see further.

He didn't even bother repressing the huge grin that lit up his face, as he spotted a seemingly shell-shocked Harry, staring at the chunk he'd apparently removed from the nearest tree. He saw Harry shift his line of sight, before grimacing and fleeing further into the forest. Frowning, Severus shifted his own sight, just as Dumbledore and McGonagall came tearing around the bottom of the castle, wands alight and in search.

Severus looked back at Harry through the trees, and saw him watch for a bit, his head angled as though listening, before turning and heading deeper into the forest.

"Oh no you don't," Severus muttered forcefully, transforming with a pop and hurling back down the stairs, arriving where he'd seen Harry with amazing speed. He was glad he could turn invisible, as he'd seen Filch with Mrs Norris in the Entrance Hall, just before he'd skidded around the Main Doors and out into the night air.

He sniffed around for a bit, surprised at how he noticed a subtle change in Harry's scent. It was as though he could tell what he was just by smell. Shaking his head and getting back on track, Severus followed Harry's trail as best he could, surprising himself when he spotted him talking to one of the Centaur's that now taught at the school after being banished from the forest.

Half listening to their conversation, he waited for Harry to make his way back to the school, noticing that he could hear Harry's surface thoughts. Apparently Harry didn't know he was broadcasting to anything in close range. Slinking ahead, Severus transformed back into himself again, and waited for his son to meet up with him…

He'd hated the way Harry had tried to close himself off to him, but Severus was determined now to at least be the father he'd been given the chance to be, and what Harry had painfully been without.

The very thought of the way Harry had been raised made Snape tighten his arms ever so slightly, unconsciously resting his cheek against the dark head resting against his shoulder. He would give his son the kind of life he'd always been denied…

Snape shivered reflexively, as the downpour of rain mixed with the cool air seeped to his bones, making Harry look up at him through puffed eyes before backing away slightly. He felt the added warmth from the contact vanish, in turn making his teeth chatter.

"You're freezing, Professor," Harry pointed out evenly, seemingly not noticing the weather around him. "You should go back inside and warm up before you catch something."

"I need to talk to you … Callen," he added the name he'd chosen for Harry hesitantly, not knowing how Harry would react to it, but wanting him to know that he regretted his words and would like to try again. "It's important that I tell you, and even more important that you know."

Severus saw Harry hesitate, appearing a little taken aback, yet also reassured by the use of his new name, while flicking his gaze between him and Hogwarts. Letting out a breath when Harry finally nodded, Severus beckoned Harry forward as he turned toward the castle, holding his arm out in invitation.

A fleeting glimmer of fear sparkled in Harry's eyes, before he stiffly walked over to Severus, letting him place his arm over his broad shoulders as they strolled back through the grounds.

***

Harry sat in Severus's chambers, barely taking in the elegant furniture and settings, as he heard the quiet mutterings of the Potions Master and Headmaster, who he'd fire called almost as soon as they arrived.

He allowed the smallest smile, as he once again heard Severus call him by his new name, a strange feeling of joy and anxiousness settling in his chest at what the subtle change meant. Harry also felt as though he knew what Severus wanted to tell him … but he was going to play ignorant all the way, until the actual words were spoken.

"Albus and Minerva are quite relieved that you are unharmed, Callen," Severus stated as he walked through the archway leading into the lounge, from the dining room. He sat on the arm of the chair next to Harry, who was sitting nervously on the couch. "Poppy is thankful that she doesn't need to see you again so soon, and Mr Weasley along with Miss Granger are currently badgering Albus as to your whereabouts and health…"

Harry looked down at the strange rug that sat in front of the glowing fireplace. He'd completely disregarded the feelings of his friends, ignored them when he knew they'd be looking for him, and even pretended to be someone else when he knew they were worried about him. What kind of friend would do that to their best mates?

"Only one who's confused and has a lot to think about," Severus's voice answered the unspoken question. Harry's head snapped up to stare at Severus in confusion and amazement.

"How did you – ?"

"You're sending out your surface thoughts to anyone in close range of you," Severus explained logically, tapping his temple. "I heard you."

Harry looked away, but still nodded. He hoped that he hadn't been doing that for too long, or who knows what some people had heard?

"How do I stop it?" he asked, looking back at Severus. "I don't want people to hear every thought I think."

Severus drew his eyebrows together in thought, but soon sighed and shrugged. "I honestly wouldn't know how you would go about that, Callen, but I suppose only time and practice will let you have control over what you let people hear. Much is the same with your shifting abilities. You only need some time and experience to master what you can do."

Harry nodded and waited a few moments before broaching the subject he wished to bring up. "You said you had something to tell me … Pro – err … S-Sev– "

"Severus, Callen," his father put in with surprising gentleness. "I'll even allow it in front of the others, if only to get you accustomed to using my name." Severus seemed to take a deep breath, showing nervousness that Harry was unaccustomed to seeing, before he stood and paced back and forth in front of him.

"After my harsh words tonight, which I apologize for again, I realized that I had no right to say such things to you. It was cruel of me, considering what you've had to take in over the last few days. Nothing in me believed that you would attempt something so extreme…"

Harry hung his head, severely abashed at the reminder, but he soon found his head being tilted upwards, meeting the black eyes of Severus, who seemed near on the verge of tears.

"I thought that you had died, Callen, and I'd never even told you what you had wanted to know ever since I told you what you are. The identity of the Deatheater that fathered you."


	18. The Final Form

****

Chapter Eighteen: The Final Form

Harry held his breath, as he watched Severus try and gather himself. He swallowed nervously and nodded his head, feeling an anticipation that he never thought he'd feel at the idea of Severus actually proclaiming himself as his father.

But the moment grew longer, and Severus had opened his mouth to speak twice with no sound emitting. Harry could see the internal struggle that Severus was battling, and only just realized what a task it was for him to admit to being his father. But more than that … he would be vocally confirming that he'd raped his mother.

At that moment, Harry knew that he didn't need for Severus to openly admit his relations to him. That he wanted to tell him in the first place, and showed regret about not saying so earlier, gave Harry all the evidence he needed to say that Snape wanted to try and be his father.

"It's all right, Severus," Harry smiled, standing up and looking the man in the eye. "I already know …"

Severus looked taken aback for a moment, before settling on something like polite confusion. "You know? But … how, I – I don't understand?"

Harry allowed himself a small smile at the rare sight of Snape being befuddled.

"I'm surprised it took me this long to figure it out, actually," Harry replied, when Severus remained silent. He walked past the Potions Master, and rested his palms against the cool stone of the hearth. "When I first saw myself yesterday morning, I knew that my face looked familiar to me. It was only after I caught a look at myself in the mirror in my room this afternoon, that I recognised the features I'd gained."

Harry turned back around and looked Severus in the eye. The Potions Master was predictably emotionless, but Harry could see a tiny fragment of hope, along with apprehension, in the obsidian eyes.

"I would guess that I look somewhat like my father did, around twenty years ago … wouldn't I?"

Snape nodded, barely perceptively. "Yes, you do…" he all but whispered. He held his gaze with Harry, as he took a deep breath, and exhaling heavily, saying, "And … how do you feel about it?"

Harry smiled faintly, "I couldn't think of a better Deatheater I'd want as my father…" He paused, as Severus shot him a grateful smile at the subtle endearment. Harry was a little surprised at how much better the Slytherin looked, without the constant frown and scowl upon his face. It actually made the man look years younger…

"I thought you would hate the idea," Severus commented lightly, but Harry could hear the immense relief it had been for him, when he declared that he liked the fact.

"Far from it, … Sev…" Harry answered, not registering the more affectionate familiarity that he'd directed towards Snape, with the nickname. "Actually … I was beginning to wonder whether _you_ hated the idea, considering all the times you either lied or denied knowledge on the subject – "

"I couldn't know how you would react to such news," Severus cut in suddenly, though his voice was eerily calm. "And after what you had just suffered at the hands of your own family, I was not going to add to your distress. Anyway … I was still coming to terms with the very same notion, and wanted to wait until I'd accepted it – "

A loud banging on the wooden door leading into the corridor cut off Snape's words, and both occupants cringed at the voice on the other side.

"Harry! Harry, are you in there?" Remus's voice sounded slightly panicky, and was muffled slightly by the thick wood. "Severus? Severus I _know_ you're in there! Open this door this instant!"

Harry bit his lip apprehensively, not wanting to face Remus so soon. He chanced a glance at his father, and saw a deep scowl marring his features, obviously irritated at being interrupted during the important conversation.

He bared his teeth, and Harry watched him stride over to his door and fling it open…

Harry's heart froze as he faced not one, but three people, glaring through the open door.

Remus was with Ron and Hermione.

***

"Are you completely out of your mind, bringing those two here with you?!!" Snape hissed at Remus, as soon as he shut the door of the kitchen, leaving his horror-stricken son with the two worried friends.

"I didn't have a choice in the matter, Severus," Remus shot back, just as hotly. "They overheard that Harry was down here with you, and the reason why. They're worried sick over him, and they accosted me at the end of the corridor." Remus seemed to deflate, and he looked at the floor. "I couldn't say no to them, as I wanted to know why Harry did it just as much as them…"

Severus sighed, loosing some of his anger. "I understand your reasoning, Remus, and theirs as well … but how am I to explain that Harry is not here after them overhearing that he was? You have to understand the situation I am in. Callen's as well…"

Remus quirked an eyebrow at using Harry's other name, but said nothing of it. Instead he grew more serious than Severus had ever seen him.

"Look, Severus … I know that you didn't want to tell Harry about your relation to him, but considering that he jumped from the Astronomy Tower, it's probably for the best that you do – "

"He already knows, Remus," Severus interrupted, successfully halting Remus mid-sentence. "Has done since late this afternoon, when he finally took a good look in a mirror…"

Remus looked downcast. "And he still jumped…?"

Severus nodded stiffly.

"_Why_?"

Severus sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He really didn't want to admit out loud, that Harry's breaking point had been the biting exchange between them. It would make it final … confirming that he'd actually driven someone – his own son, no less – to suicide.

How many other students had contemplated it, just to get away from his scathing insults and degrading? Attempts didn't matter. Somehow, the fleeting idea of it was more important than those that may, or might have, attempted it. He knew that most people that thought of suicide never went through with it … but the idea of it was still there.

Severus knew he was a cold and cruel teacher. He had to seem that way in front of the children of Deatheaters. But was he so callous that a student had thought of dying, just to rid themselves of his treatment of them?

God, he hoped not…

"Severus, are you all right?"

Blinking, Severus realized that he'd unconsciously sat on one of the kitchen chairs, and had his head in his hands. He looked up at Remus, seeing the concern in his hazel eyes, mixed with confusion … most likely by his reaction to his question.

"I'm fine, Remus," he muttered, standing defensively. "Nothing to worry about."

Remus looked as though he didn't believe a word of what he'd said, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden commotion in the neighbouring room sent both men towards the door, opening it sharply…

"Where's Harry, Callen?" Hermione asked quite bluntly, as soon as the two adults walked briskly from the lounge room. "We know he's here, we heard Dumbledore say so, so don't try and brush us off."

Harry didn't want to have this discussion here, and he knew it was the worst timing he could have, especially if they knew he'd jumped from the castle … but he'd promised himself that he would, and he might as well get it over with.

"Fine then, Hermione. I won't. Harry is here, and he can see you … but you can't see him."

This blunt reply stumped the two teens for only a moment, before Ron spoke up rather angrily, "And why the hell can't we? We're his friends and have every right to!"

"Is he under his cloak then?" Hermione cut in, pointedly ignoring Ron and keeping her cool.

Harry shook his head. "No he's not, and he won't come out until I've asked you both something. Will you listen to his questions and answer them, without loosing your tempers, even if the questions seem irrelevant?"

Hermione paused for only a moment, before nodding her head, while Ron seemed much more apprehensive of the idea, but still nodded stiffly. Harry motioned for them to sit on the lounge and stood in front of them much like an instructor might.

"What do you think of Non-humans? How do you feel about them?"

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, confused. Hermione shrugged and asked, "It all depends on what you meant by 'Non-humans' … do you mean things like House Elves, or Vampires and Werewolves?"

"More along the lines of things like Vampires and stuff. You know … Beings."

"Well," Hermione began, "I used to think that they were all evil and out to kill all of us, like what the books said … but then I met Professor Lupin, and it sort of threw it all out of perspective. Now I sort of take them as them, and they can't help the way they were born … so…"

Harry quirked an eyebrow and smirked good-naturedly. "So it's like a case by case thing for you?" Hermione nodded. Harry was inwardly jumping for joy, but his mood quickly changed when he saw the scowl on Ron's face. "Ron? Your opinion?"

"I don't see the point in even answering this, but seeing how Harry wants to know … for some ungodly reason … I'll say that Non-human Beings aren't on the top of my favourite things list. They're not like us at all, and don't follow our way of life – "

"What about Remus?" Hermione suddenly asked, visibly agitated by Ron's answer. "He's a Werewolf and you don't seem to mind him!"

"He's different, Hermione," Ron retorted, "And although I'm not keen on Werewolves, you can count out anything like Vampires or Hags and stuff. I mean, they kill Wizards as much as they would Muggles! Plus they've got all sorts of other powers that we don't have, that can't be controlled by the Ministry! You do the math…"

Harry schooled his face into indifference before Ron or Hermione looked at him again. Ron's words had cut at his already bleeding heart, and he didn't want either of them to see his hurt feelings.

"Why did you want us to tell you this?" Hermione asked with polite curiosity. "What does it have to do with Harry?"

"Everything," he answered, swallowing the lump in his throat. "But before I get to that, there is something else I would like to tell you both."

"What?" said Ron, frowning.

Harry took a deep breath and held out his hand. "I believe I wasn't introduced to you completely at Dinner tonight. Something suddenly came to light. My full name is Callen Emrys … Snape."

Ron and Hermione were speechless, and Harry almost dropped his hand, thinking that they would obviously hate him, because he was now seen as the Greasy Git's son … until Hermione seemed to gather her senses and hastily took his hand, shaking it in greeting.

"Pleased to meet you," she smiled.

Harry grinned back and turned to Ron…

Ron looked most disgusted.

"You're a Snape, are you? You do rather look like the slimy git so – "

"_Ron!_" Hermione breathed, looking scandalized, while Harry looked away, hurt. "What on earth is the matter with you?!! Just because Snape is his father, doesn't mean you can treat him like dirt! This is the same person we walked to Dinner with, remember?"

"So what? He could be just as good at acting as his dear old Deatheater Dad! And why do you keep delaying in telling us about Harry?" Ron shot at him suddenly, a startling amount of hatred lacing his eyes. "Where is he?"

The door to the kitchen opened before Harry could reply, and they all turned to see Severus and Remus rush through the door, eyeing them all reproachfully.

"What on earth are you all yelling for?" Snape demanded with his usual air of annoyance. He glanced at Harry, his eyebrows drawing together in a curious concern, studying his face. "Callen, if you could explain?"

"It's nothing, Sev, really," Harry muttered, looking at his feet. "I just told them my last name, that's all, and Ron had a point that he wanted to get across. I'm sorry we got so noisy…"

Snape studied him for another moment, "How much did you tell them?"

Harry looked back up nervously. "I only got to ask about their opinions on Non-human Magical Beings, and tell them I was your son. Haven't got to the kicker yet," he remarked, attempting to lighten the mood with a small grin.

"Can we please just get to the point?" Hermione asked rather forcefully, though somehow still remaining quite cordial. "What has all of this got to do with Harry, and why are you keeping us from him?"

"As I said earlier, it has everything to do with him," Harry replied quietly. "And we're not keeping you from him. He's right here in the room."

"Stop being a prat!" Ron snarled suddenly, standing directly in front of Harry. "He's nowhere in sight, and he hasn't been back to our room to get his cloak! Where is he?!!"

Harry faltered momentarily, feeling wary at the sight of Ron's face directing such malice toward him. It felt surreal…

"For your information, Mr Weasley," Snape stepped towards the two boys, glaring at Ron with much distaste, "Mr Potter is standing right – "

Harry suddenly drew in a sharp breath, cutting off Snape's words, as he felt a wave of pain wash over him, much in the same way as it did those few days ago in the Infirmary. He looked at his father, pleading with his eyes to send everyone out, before another wave ripped through him, making him cry out sharply and collapse to his knees.

Harry's skin felt on fire, his bone's and joints were as if hundreds of knives were digging into him. He dimly heard Snape order everyone out, and tell Remus something about the Headmaster, before another agonizing spasm tore at his senses.

Blearily, Harry realized that he'd fallen to the side, his cheek tickled by the strange rug at the centre of the hearth. A voice reached his ears, and it sounded strangely soothing … like silk … Another wave ripped at him. It felt immensely worse than his first transformation … a part of Harry's mind believed that another should hurt _less._ Yeah right.

"Revert, Cal!" A strong voice commanded, though through the pain, Harry could hear fear in the words. "Revert to the Avatar!"

"I can't!" Harry managed to whimper, as the pain ebbed momentarily, his mind catching up and realizing that it had been his father talking. "I can't! Please – Dad please make it stop!"

"It's all right, Son," Snape's voice sounded unsteady. "It'll be better once you Revert back to your Avatarial Form … Come on…"

Harry grit his teeth, his muscles jerking painfully as he waited for the wave to subside. As soon as he felt the pain lessen minutely, Harry set his mind to transforming, trying to block out the stabbing pain throughout him as he did so, using his father's voice as an anchor. As he felt another spasm build, Harry began to feel the shift begin, faster then ever. The pain lessened dramatically, but it was still unbearable in his shoulders, lower back, and general bones and joints.

He opened his eyes when he felt the change finish, seeing the world once again in shades of inverted grey's, but this time, the colourful vapour that hung in the air was swirling and changing colour violently. It looked like it was coming directly from him, and seemed to be forced from the room in waves.

A screeching shriek escaped his mouth as Harry felt his bones and joints bust and reform, changing his structure once again. The pain in his shoulders reached Cruciatus level, and Harry curled up into a ball, wishing it would just stop. A spike in pain near his tailbone marked the end of the painful episode, leaving Harry sprawled on the floor of Severus's chambers, his breathing ragged, and feeling utterly exhausted.

"Cal?"

Harry jerked at the sudden voice, sending aches rippling through him. He groaned and tried to roll over, but felt a hand on his shoulder, stilling his movements.

"Lie still, Callen," Sev ordered gently. "Your body needs to rest … but seeing as now you've reached your full Avatarial form, that shouldn't take long to rectify…"

Harry only nodded dimly, before submitting to the darkness at the edge if his vision, and falling into a regenerative unconsciousness.


	19. A Joke?

****

Chapter Nineteen: "A Joke?"

"Sev, why do I look older?"

Harry woke up that morning on his father's couch feeling as refreshed and lively as he had ever felt before, even if it was a bit awkward due to the large set of feathery wings adorning his back, and the long tail that rested underneath his legs. He'd flat out refused to look at his new changes, knowing that he'd appear even more inhuman than before, and shifted swiftly as he walked to the bathroom; he barely noticed how much less thought went into the feat.

But then Harry looked in the mirror, finding his face different than the one he'd seen only yesterday afternoon. On impulse he'd called out his question, and he now heard light footsteps approaching the door.

"Pardon?" Severus said calmly as he swung the door open. "Oh, you changed already?" he remarked, sounding genuinely surprised. Harry watched his father walk over to him, then turned back to the mirror. "What do you think of your Final Form then? Impressive, no?"

"I didn't look," Harry answered shortly. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I look older than someone who only just turned sixteen, Sev, and I know I didn't look this old yesterday…"

It was true, in that he no longer bore the look of a large teenager, and instead now bore the proper bulk and manner of a twenty two year old in the peak of his days. He even had a thin splattering of stubble around his chin, upper lip and jaw line.

"Well, it's because you've reached your final physical changes. Avatars are actually Ageless … quite close to immortal actually; at least once you've gained all your Magical abilities. You will forever have the body of someone in his early twenties, unless you willingly alter it … but this is your truest form now, next to that of your Avatarial form."

Harry nodded, sighing lightly as he held his gaze in the mirror of a moment, before turning around and stepping up to his father. Close up, Harry saw that he now stood just a smidge higher than Severus, and was noticeably broader in the shoulder and chest.

Sev scowled at him good naturedly, but still shot his son a small smile.

"Thank you for your help last night, Sev," Harry loved the sound of his voice now, actually feeling a strange emotion in his chest as he heard that which resembled his father so much. "For everything," he added, knowing that Sev would understand the meaning behind it.

"You're welcome, Callen," he replied, nodding somewhat awkwardly. He turned to look at something out in the other room, before turning back to him looking strangely torn about something. "Um … would you like something for breakfast? Now that you've reached the end of your physical manifestations you'll have no actual need to eat, sleep or breath, but I suspect you'll continue with at least two of those from sheer habit." Harry just blinked. "So, would you like some breakfast then?"

"Um … sure…" Harry mumbled, trying to absorb what Severus had just spieled off at him. No longer needing to eat, sleep, or _breathe_ even … Pausing, Harry actually realised that he _wasn't _breathing. Yet if he though about it, the motion began as normal.

Harry shook his head, walking across the room to take a seat opposite his father. What was Voldemort thinking, when he thought to build him? Surely he would have devised a way to control his Avatar's with absolutism, for Harry knew the Dark Wizard wouldn't have just decided to terminate them, after putting so much time and effort into them …… would he?

"Can I ask you something?"

Severus looked up from his plate of scrambled eggs and sausages, curious. "You may…"

"Do you know if Voldemort would have a way to track, or keep an eye on Avatar's? Would he sense them or something?"

Harry shifted nervously in his seat, feeling uneasy as Severus continued to stare at him nonplussed.

"Not to my knowledge, Callen," he answered finally, turning his attention back to his meal. "You, and those that would have been your brothers and sisters of destruction, were meant to be the Dark Lords Horsemen. His most Elite and loyal. Why would he need to keep tabs on those that were designed to serve him unquestionably? Not that _that_ idea worked as he planned…"

Harry nodded absently. "So … does that mean that, Voldemort knows I'm one of his Avatar's, but he doesn't know I've completed my transformation, so he still thinks I'm an easy target?"

Severus looked up from his meal, a light gleaming in his eyes as he read into what he'd just heard.

"I do believe you're onto something of interest," he remarked, not quite focusing on the conversation as his mind began to tick over. "I'll mention it to Albus the next time I see him. Maybe we can think of someway to use his ignorance of the situation to our advantage?"

Harry only nodded and turned back to his plate, which was now covered in sausages, and found that he really didn't feel remotely hungry. Shrugging, Harry picked one up with his fingers and munched on it, savouring the taste of the cooked meat, even if it gave him no needed nourishment. He looked at his goblet, full of pumpkin juice, and absently waved his hand as he shoved the last of the sausage in his mouth, turning the liquid amber and downing it in one gulp.

Licking his lips, Harry sat the goblet back on the table, only to see his father staring at him amusedly, one eyebrow cocked questioningly.

"What?" he asked, wondering why he was being stared at. Severus looked at the Goblet he'd just drained pointedly, before raising his eyes to his again. "What, I wasn't in the mood for Pumpkin Juice, so I changed it … to Apple … um – I changed it," Harry stumbled, only then just realizing what his father had seen. He looked at his hand, as though it would answer his problem, then at his goblet, then his father. "Without my wand…"

"Your powers of observation are astounding," Sev remarked, smirking at the scowl Harry threw at him. "You have the ability to cast most normal spells without a wand, now that you've finished your physical transformation. With time, the rest of your abilities will come to you progressively. As it is, your general magical potency will have increased quite dramatically … even with the simplest spells."

"How much stronger?" Harry gulped. After all, he was the one that had to control the intensity of a spell he cast…

Severus frowned in thought for a moment, then drew his own wand. "_Nox Totalus_," he muttered, instantly plunging the whole room into absolute darkness. "Okay, Callen," he said, "You already know how bright a light from your wand is, using _Lumos_ … so now, I would like you to cast it without your wand, using roughly what you think is a good amount of strength behind it, like you would do with your wand."

Harry nodded, forgetting that Severus couldn't see him in the black room, before taking a deep breath, raising his hand, one finger outstretched…

"_Lumos!_" his muttered with a good amount of force, expecting the feeble beam of light he usually got …

Harry had to shut his eyes at the intensity of the beam emitting from his forefinger, illuminating most of the room with the glow. Squinting, Harry looked at it better, comparing it to a rather powerful spotlight, rather than a small beam of candlelight.

"Holy Shit," he muttered under his breath, swallowing as his throat had decided to dry.

"Indeed," Severus replied, looking quite stunned. "If this is the improvement on such a small charm, not even six hours from completing your change, then I almost dread to think about when you reach full potential…" He looked over at Harry questioningly. "Is this at full strength?"

Harry shook his head meekly. "No, Sir … this is about halfway…"

Severus's face seemed to go slack. "Jesus…"

***

Harry stood outside of the library, fidgeting anxiously as he looked at Ron and Hermione from just around the doors. It was almost lunchtime, and ever since the significant revelation about his magic came to light at breakfast, Severus had him doing all kinds of things, trying to find a good way to judge his magical potency at present. He'd stopped, saying that it'd probably be as good as they'd get, when after being dragged out to the lake, Harry had given the Giant Squid it's first look at the sky after performing a simple levitating charm.

He had to admit that, even after the relentless morning, performing such a feat had only made him feel a little worn out. Harry still used his lungs out of reflex, even though he needed no oxygen anymore, and had found himself a little short of breath after returning the creature to it's home.

Severus had acted like Christmas had come early, but Harry was extremely apprehensive. How on earth was he to make everyone believe that his magic was normal? He didn't know how to regulate it properly yet, and could end up hurting someone if he didn't do something carefully.

It was at that point that Severus had said he could stop, now that he had a good comparison, and had advised him to go and have the delayed talk with his friends.

"Just make sure you look like your old self first, this time," his father had remarked offhandedly. "They might listen to you that way, instead of having to be in the presence of the "greasy git's" son."

Harry had been a little amused at the comment and had agreed, taking off to his rooms, shifting forms to the way he used to look (only a bit taller) and finding a note addressed to him from his two friends.

Now, here he was, where the note had told him to come, if he should actually turn up at his room sometime this summer…

"Probably think I hate them," he muttered, knowing he'd feel resentful if one of his friends suddenly didn't want to hang around for no real reason. Harry took a deep breath and entered the old Library as silently as he could.

Ron and Hermione didn't notice his entrance, and continued to browse over the books they had splayed across the table. Only when Harry had reached their table, did they look up at him.

Harry barely got to open his mouth before Hermione suddenly leapt from her seat and threw her arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life. Although stunned for a moment, Harry soon returned the gesture, being mindful to be gentle due to his strength.

"Don't you ever scare us like that again, Harry," she breathed into his ear, her voice wavering with unshed emotion. "Merlin, when we overheard Dumbledore talking to Snape about what you tried to … I can't believe you'd actually – Oh Gods – !"

Hermione finally broke down and sobbed onto Harry's shoulder, her arms tightening around him even more. Harry though, was feeling worse by the second. He hated seeing his friends so pained, and it was by his own unthinking actions that had brought it upon them. Looking over Hermione's shoulder, Harry saw Ron just staring at the two of them, looking almost disappointed for a moment, before adopting a posture that seemed almost resigned. This confused Harry profusely, but the loosening of arms around his neck pushed the thought to the back of his mind, as Hermione released him from her grip, but kept her hands on his shoulders.

"Will you tell us why you did it?" she choked out, her tears under control but still trickling down her cheeks.

Harry stared down at her, knowing that he had to tell them everything eventually, but he couldn't tell them that. Hell … he wasn't one hundred percent sure himself …

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I won't tell you that. I can't. But I can tell you how sorry I am to put you through all this … both of you. It was extremely selfish of me, and I didn't really think about how everyone I knew would take it…" Harry looked at his feet, to avoid having to look at his friend's sad eyes. "I know that it's lame, and can't account for what I did, nor will it take it from your memories … but all I can say is, I'm sorry."

Hermione could only nod her head, letting even more tears spill down her cheeks, so Harry looked over at Ron, who stood from his chair and took a step toward him.

"Don't do it again, Harry," he said steadily. "I can understand the wanting to avoid us after doing something like that and all … but what I want to know is, why did you want to stay with Snape, of all people? You do remember the way he's treated us the last four years, don't you?"

"What, you've already forgotten the man that took a swim with us yesterday afternoon, have you?" Harry shot out without thinking. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've snapped … and he's mainly the reason I came to see you. I have something to tell you both, and it's going to be quite a shock, but it was interrupted last night when you were all in Snape's rooms."

"What happened, Harry? Is Callen all right?" said Hermione, sitting back down. "He looked like he was going to have a seizure of some sort?"

Harry shook his head. "He's fine, Hermione, and that will be explained to you as well." He looked around, not exactly wanting to have this conversation in a place as open as the library. "How about we all go back to my rooms, and I'll tell you in there?"

Both Ron and Hermione could tell it was merely a delaying tactic, but still nodded and stood, walking slightly behind Harry as he led them toward his temporary room. The trip was made in absolute silence, which Harry didn't like too much, as it let his mind go over all the different scenarios and possible outcomes of this little meeting. None of the one's Harry envisioned turned out nicely.

Harry opened his door and briskly walked over to his bed, sitting down on it heavily while Hermione and Ron took seats beside him, and on the opposite bed respectively.

"Ok," Harry breathed, noticing the attentive looks he was receiving from his friends. "First off, I want you both to know that I was in the room with you both last night, and heard everything you said regarding Non-human Magical Beings, and I also saw your reactions to the knowledge that Callen is actually Professor Snape's son … but you were all kicked out before you were told everything you needed to be told…"

"Callen told us that you'd asked him to ask us those questions, Harry," Hermione said after a moments pause. "But, why would you want to know? I mean, it's not like our opinions of Non-human Beings or the fact that Callen is a Snape is going to change anything to do with us, right?"

Harry swallowed audibly, and lowered his gaze, slowly shaking his head. "Actually … both of those things will factor in this discussion."

Silence met Harry's ears and he looked up to see both Ron and Hermione seriously befuddled. He sighed heavily, and decided to quit beating around the bush.

"I discovered something this past week about myself, that I wasn't too thrilled over at first, but now I don't mind so much … and it relates to both topics." He paused … "I discovered that my mother changed the way I was supposed to look when I was born. This face," Harry gestured at his head, "isn't the one you should have been looking at for the past four years…"

"Why would your Mum do that though, Harry?" Ron asked disbelievingly, waving a hand in Harry's general direction.

"Simple," Harry replied, praying that Merlin was listening to him. "To hide the fact that James Potter wasn't my biological father."

Ron looked floored, while predictably, Hermione had the beginnings of comprehension dawning on her features.

"Oh my God!" she breathed, putting his statement together with what he'd said earlier. "How on earth is that possible? And how do you change?"

"Whoa, whoa! Hold up a minute!" Ron exclaimed, holding up his hands and shooting wide eyes between the two on the bed. "How on earth is _what_ possible? And what do you mean James Potter isn't your father? You look just like him apparently … and if he's not, then who the hell is?"

Harry held his breath, glancing at Hermione, who was shaking her head with a hand over her mouth, and changed right in front of their eyes.

"I humbly present you with, Callen Emrys Snape…" Harry spoke softly, but his deep voice might as well have been screamed out, with the effect it had, coupled with his shifting. Harry looked at his friends, feeling a stab in his heart at the look of horror on Ron's face, but felt the ache diminish slightly at the understanding and acceptance in Hermione's.

"This is a joke…"

Harry and Hermione turned to look at Ron, who at this point was looking exceptionally angry.

"A joke?" Harry frowned, sitting forward more and leaning on his elbows. "A _joke, _Ron? Are you insane? What the hell would make you think that this was a JOKE!!!" Harry leapt to his feet and glared at the redhead with an intensity that was only matched by his father. "You think that having everything you knew about yourself ripped away, to be replaced with something you wished you never knew, and _hated_, is a JOKE!!! Well, lets not stop with the hilarity now that I'm on a role! That's not the only thing I had to tell you, but seeing as all this is such a laugh, I'll just _show_ you right off what I was going to say!!!"

Ignoring the stunned and almost fearful looks on Ron and Hermione's faces, Harry shifted into his completed Avatarial form for the first time. The change was almost instantaneous, as Harry grew another foot and a half in height, his muscles filling out and were clearly visible under the tightened skivvy, while his shoes seemed to meld into his skin as his feet grew hocked; the deadly looking claws jutting forward from three toes.

The two bronze horns sprouted from his forehead, as his teeth and ears elongated, while his skin took on the eerie silvery sheen. Finally the newest additions to his body made themselves apparent, as a long tail, tapering into a point, suddenly sprouted through his jeans, (though the seam seemed magically altered, so there was no tear) and a pair of huge, black, feathery wings burst from his shoulder blades, (yet again, the holes just appeared.)

Harry forced his eyes back to normal vision, so he could properly interpret his friends reaction to him, almost enjoying the fear he could see on their faces. But another part of him felt as though his heart were being torn in two.

So, in a voice rumbling in the deepest of baritones, he stated quietly, "I'm an Avatar."


	20. Reactions

****

Chapter Twenty: Reactions

The next few minutes would forever be etched into Harry's memory. As soon as he declared to his shell-shocked friends what he was, he wished he had gone about it in a different way.

Hermione stood, hand over her mouth, wide eyed and still as a statue. Harry could see her hand shaking, and he had a feeling it was more from fear than shock. Ron however had practically screamed, and had immediately tried to get as far away from him as possible; backing into the wall behind him as though he was praying for it to swallow him.

The sudden influx of negative emotion was almost too much for Harry to take composedly, until, through Ron's terror and disgust, and over Hermione's _initial_ fear … Harry felt compassion, and a sad sympathy directed towards him, as he felt Hermione's shock start to subside.

He turned his eyes to hers, and felt a stabbing in his chest as he saw her close to tears … but they weren't in fear. They were on his behalf, and the thought warmed him like he never thought possible.

Harry felt a minute smile touch his lips, as Hermione started to step towards him, but it was replaced with a pained grimace when Ron's arm shot out and grasped Hermione by the arm, stopping her from approaching, and making her gasp in pain at the tight grip.

"Don't go near him, Hermione!" Ron spat out, glaring at Harry with utmost loathing. "You can't trust him anymore!"

"Ron don't be a prat!" Hermione retorted scathingly, trying to pry Ron's fingers from her arm as he edged them both slowly towards the door. "This is Harry you're talking about! He's our _friend!_"

"A frigging servant of You-Know-Who is _not_ what I would call a _friend_, Hermione!" Ron continued to direct Hermione towards the door, not taking his eyes off of Harry. "And he's not Harry … remember? He's Callen _Snape!_ Son of a damn Deatheater! I won't call such a thing _my_ friend, and if you used your head, neither would you! He's been lying to us ever since we got here for crying out loud!!

"And you think that he'd just come out and tell us without knowing how we'd react first?!" Hermione yelled, now physically trying to keep them both in the room. "Fat lot of good it did him anyway! You're supposed to be his best friend, and look at yourself! You just as chauvinistic as Malfoy – "

A sudden, sharp smack brought Harry back to the present, and the next instant his head snapped around at Hermione's yelp. In less than a second, Harry concluded that at Hermione's insult, Ron had reflexively slapped her about the cheek; Ron looked almost mortified, but he also projected resentment at Hermione's comment.

Harry turned to face the two fully, hearing a deep and guttural growl rumbling from within him, unaware of his eyes glowing a burning white. He glanced down at Hermione, who had a hand to the side of her face, looking shocked beyond reasoning, and tears beginning to trickle from her eyes.

Ron looked up at the sound of Harry's growl, and his face paled sickeningly. Harry prowled forward, and Ron immediately turned tail and bolted through the door, not even glancing back. Harry snarled in rage and started forward, but calmed almost immediately and stopped at the sound of Hermione's voice.

"Harry no! Don't trouble yourself over him…"

Harry knelt in front of her, hesitant to actually do anything more for fear of her flinching from him.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" he asked softly, seeing her feeling the red mark tentatively. "He had no right to do that…" he sighed heavily, looking away. "I'm sorry … I handled that badly…"

Hermione shook her head, sniffling and wiping her eyes. "Don't apologize, Harry. You didn't do this … and Ron's just narrow-minded. You should know that…"

Harry nodded, and hesitantly reached out and touched Hermione's injured cheek, feeling a flood of warmth envelop his chest, as she didn't flinch away from him. "_Enflamarius vanitious,_" he whispered, smiling as Hermione gasped at the sting and redness vanishing from her skin. He could get used to the awe effect he had on her…

"Thank you, Harry," she said softly, as Harry dropped his hand back to his knees. He should have known that she wouldn't question anything he displayed, seeing as she most likely would have read about what he would be capable of doing from one of her epic reading marathons.

"You're welcome," he answered, so softly his voice sounded more like a purr. "Come on," Harry stated suddenly, rising to his full seven and a half foot height. "I want to find Ron, and present his opinion to Dumbledore in a somewhat barbaric manner…"

"Harry don't get yourself into trouble before school even starts," said Hermione, taking Harry's offered hand and standing beside him. Harry almost laughed, for she only came to his chest, but held back for the moment.

"I'm not going to get into any trouble, Hermione. I know for certain that neither Dumbledore or McGonagall will be happy with him … and can you imagine my fathers opinion on the matter?"

******

Harry was in no rush to find Ron, but wanted to sooner rather than later, mainly so he could do something to him for striking Hermione. Harry decided to stay in his Avatarial form for a while, so he could get used to how he moved and felt, but also so Hermione wouldn't feel so awkward with him.

They were currently walking down a quiet corridor on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. Harry, deciding that his wings were taking up too much space, had folded them against his broad shoulders, making it look as though he wore an exotic cloak.

"What are you going to do when school starts up again, Harry?" Hermione spoke up from beside his arm. He looked down at her and shrugged.

"I actually don't know what's going to happen," he answered, sighing and shoving his hands in his pockets. "We still need to talk about it with Dumbledore. I do know that everything has to be kept quiet though. As far as Severus knows, Voldemort doesn't know I've awakened, and still thinks of me as a normal Wizard. He's thinking of how that could be used to our advantage…"

Hermione only nodded, her brow furrowing as she began to think of something he had no inkling of.

Harry returned his focus to the magical vapour hanging lazily in the air, noting that he could follow Ron's signature with little work. Harry steered them down another corridor, following the distinct colouring and patterns.

Harry let a devilish grin light his eyes as he realized where it was that Ron had decided to flee.

"Silly boy…" he muttered, wondering how exactly his head of house was going to react to Ron's biased story.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked, gazing up at him curiously. She gasped in surprise when she saw his black and green eyes, but it was soon replaced with wonder. "Wow, Harry … Why do your eyes look like that? And they glow!"

Harry smiled and placed a hand on her back, steering her to McGonagall's office. "Well, after some experimenting, I found that, when my eyes glow green, whether they be black or normal, it lets me see the essence of magic. Currently, I'm following Ron's _magical_ scent, as it would be. I can see his signature, and I'm just following it…" He smiled at Hermione's slack jaw, but continued his explanation. "As for when my eyes are either black or white backgrounds, that just lets me see either normally … or, when my eyes are like they are now, with the black, then everything is in greyscale, but it's all inverted. What would be black to your eyes is white to mine. It makes for an interesting sight…"

Hermione grinned impishly, "I'll bet," she remarked. Her smile vanished though, as she started to hear what Harry had three corridors ago. McGonagall was yelling at someone at the top of her lungs, and they could both guess who the unlucky person was.

Harry schooled his features into his fiercest scowl, as he lay his hand on the shut door. He winked at Hermione and said, "Wait a moment before going in after I do, okay?" She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but still nodded. Harry then sent a mental warning to McGonagall, announcing his imminent arrival in her room. He got a surprised acknowledgement, the same time he heard her voice fumble slightly, but she was back on a roll not a moment later.

Harry had discovered that, if he thought of something he wished to accomplish, that was in his current capabilities, the knowledge of how to achieve it just appeared in his mind. It was something he was incredibly grateful for…

The next moment, Harry found himself in Professor McGonagall's office, the black tendrils of smoke that accompanied his teleport vanishing into nothingness, leaving him in a dead silent room with one very flustered Transfiguration Professor, and one petrified Gryffindor.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry greeted pleasantly, but leaving his burning white eyes directed at Ron. "I trust you've heard _Mr Weasley's_ … version of events by now?"

"I have indeed, Potter," she answered, just as Hermione opened the door and entered swiftly, taking a place beside Harry. "Miss Granger? Why are you here?"

"Oh, did Ron neglect to mention everything that happened after Harry showed us what he was?" Hermione responded with mock innocence. "Why does that not surprise me…?"

McGonagall looked confused, but still threw a scathing look at Ron, who was slowly edging from the room.

"How about I show you, Professor," Harry suggested, waving a hand, locking the door just as Ron reached it. "You're staying right here, Weasley."

McGonagall ignored what had happened with Ron, and nodded to Harry's offer. Obligingly, he raised his hand to her temple, and projected everything that had been said regarding what had happened the previous night, and the words swapped after revealing himself to his two friends. Harry stopped the transmission right after Ron fled from the room, and lowered his hand, watching as McGonagall's face slowly transitioned from curious, to fuming.

"Mr Weasley," she hissed venomously. "That was, by far, the largest contradiction to your story that I've ever seen. We will be seeing the Headmaster this instant, and we _will_ be including one Severus Snape in this little talk as well!"

Ron paled instantly, but was soon being shuffled from the (now unlocked) room, by a most irate Head of House. Right before she stepped from the room though, McGonagall swiftly looked at Hermione and said, "Are you all right, Miss Granger?" She eyed her cheek appraisingly.

"I'm fine, Professor," she answered, smiling up at Harry. "Harry fixed it."

McGonagall nodded before taking a quick look at Harry. "Thank you, Potter. You look absolutely stunning, by the way…" she grinned, before pushing Ron out the door and following him.

Harry looked down, very abashed by the comment.

"She's right, you know."

Harry looked down at Hermione sceptically. "Yeah right. I'm hideous, Hermione … not that I've actually looked in a mirror lately…" He grasped her shoulder firmly, but gently, and teleported them both directly into the Great Hall before she could reply.

Several surprised exclamations found Harry's ears, but at the moment he was too busy catching Hermione, who had almost collapsed with the shock of such an unexpected transportation.

"Good Lord, Harry," she gasped, regaining her bearings. "Don't ever do that to me again, and if you do, warn me first!"

"It's cool though, isn't it?" he grinned, laughing at her horrified expression. "You're no fun…"

"Fun?" Hermione screeched, slapping his arm indignantly. "You're impossible … Harry … err, good afternoon, Professors Dumbledore, Snape … Remus. Um … Nice day, isn't it?"

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore from behind the Head Table, smiling amusedly at the two. "Indeed it is a nice day, and judging by Harry's rather magnificent entrance and appearance, your talks went well?"

Harry's grin faded, and Hermione looked awkward.

"Where, may I ask, is Mr Weasley, Callen?" Severus asked, gazing at him in a manner that made Harry know that he knew what had happened. "How did he take the news?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Sev," Harry replied, letting some of his anger leech into his manner. "Actually, Professor McGonagall will be arriving soon, to tell you what happened. Ron will no doubt be grudgingly with her."

"He flipped out on you, didn't he," Remus stated, grimacing in sympathy.

"Oh, just a little," Harry remarked sarcastically, holding his thumb and forefinger together as though in measurement. He shook his head and lead Hermione to a seat next to his, which was beside Severus.

"Which part did him in?" Remus continued, leaning around the table. "Severus being your father, or that you're an Avatar?"

"Well, in case you missed his reaction to _Callen_ being a Snape, you can imagine his reaction when he found out I was one and the same. But, even that wasn't as bad as his reaction to finding out what I was…" Harry trailed off, and he looked down. He knew, deep down, that Ron wouldn't ever be able to accept what he was like Hermione could … but he didn't want to loose his friendship either. Ron had been his very first friend … and although the closeness would be forever tarnished, Harry believed that they might at least be able to work through it.

Feeling a reassuring pat on his shoulder, Harry turned toward Severus, looking almost unsure at his action, but Harry smiled appreciatively at him.

"Severus told me of this mornings experimentations, Harry," Dumbledore spoke into the silence. "I must say, I was quite surprised by your abilities, thus far. I never thought your strength could increase so profoundly. It's quite reassuring …"

"But I could hurt someone, if I'm not careful!" Harry exclaimed, looking around his father to stare at Dumbledore.

"That is true," Dumbledore nodded, "But think of what you've managed to achieve in the few hours since your full transformation? Not five minutes ago, you managed to displace not only your own molecules, but Miss Grangers as well. I think you will find that you will get a handle on your magical control quite quickly."

Harry looked briefly at everyone. "Really?" he asked, his powerful voice sounding strange with the small tone he used. "You think so?"

"Absolutely, Harry," Remus smiled, before digging back into his tuna dish.

Harry grinned, grabbing a piece of apple to munch on habitually, when the doors to the Great Hall swung open, revealing Minerva McGonagall pushing a very resistant Ronald Weasley in front of her. They marched up to the Head Table, stopping directly in front of Dumbledore.

"Albus, we have a serious problem with Mr Weasley!"

*****

"I still say we should Obliviate him of his memories of the past day, and ship him back to his parents with some excuse as to why he's back early!"

Severus was glaring daggers at the youngest Weasley boy, who he was satisfied to say, was shaking visibly in the chair he was seated in, across from the Headmasters desk. They had all decided to move the discussion to Albus's office, where it was the most secure for such a situation.

Minerva had told them all what had transpired in his son's room, and to say that they were all most displeased with it all was quite the understatement. Admittedly, Callen could have revealed himself in a more tactful manner, but giving Weasley's words beforehand, Severus couldn't blame him.

Severus glanced over at his son, who was sharing the couch with Granger, relieved that he'd shifted back into his natural form, even if he did look older than his peers. He took up less room, for one, but it also rid them of the distraction factor. Callen was quite the impressive figure, and none of them could focus quite properly with him standing there in all his magnificence. That, and the power he projected unconsciously was quite distracting, and seemed to lessen somewhat when in his human form.

"We cannot go around Obliviating everyone west and nilly, Severus," Minerva scolded, interrupting his musings. "If we simply had his word that he would keep all this about Harry a secret, then I don't see a problem. As … _narrow-minded_ as Mr Weasley has proven himself to be, he won't reveal such a secret to anyone. Not once he realises the ramifications if he _was_ to say anything…"

"And what if he _does_ blab, Minerva?" Sev responded agitatedly. "What on earth would we do then? Our advantage would be lost, and the Dark Lord would want Cal for a completely different reason! He would know that he'd be completely incapable of killing Cal on his own, and will start to try and lure him back to his side…"

"I would _never_ join Voldemort!" Harry exclaimed, interrupting the conversation, looking quite unsettled by the line of discussion.

"You don't know that for sure, Callen," Sev commented gently. "The desire to obey the Dark Lord is interwoven with your very being, and you _will_ feel its pull. Remember, it was only because of the possible unpredictability, and uncontrollable aspects of the Avatar's, that made Him try and destroy the line…"

Severus watched his son's face fall into one of dejection and anxiety. Granger patted his shoulder reassuringly, and he gave her a weak smile before returning his worried eyes to the floor. Sev looked back at Dumbledore, Remus, and Minerva, seeing their own worry about the declaration on their faces. He himself had always known of an Avatar's compulsion to obey it's Master … but to actually tell anyone about it wasn't something he'd wanted to do. He _needed_ the Weasley boy to understand just how confidential this information was, especially if he wasn't to be Obliviated.

"P … Professor Snape, sir?"

He turned and looked at Granger, who looked a little intimidated, being around so many figures of authority.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Um … Does V-Voldemort know that Harry is the only Avatar left alive, and if so, does he still think that he hasn't Awakened yet?"

He frowned a little, wondering what the point was in repeating something that she already knew, but nodded acquiescingly just the same. "Yes, that's correct."

Hermione nodded. "Well, I was just thinking, and wouldn't all of Harry's problems be solved if he was to die, but he continued living as Callen Snape?"


	21. The Falling Out

****

Chapter Twenty One: The Falling Out

The room was filled with a deafening silence at Hermione's strange proposition. She was looking around at everyone expectantly, while everyone else was either in thought, or staring at her like she was insane.

Harry noted that Ron was one of the latter.

"Is that even achievable, Albus?" McGonagall asked with a soft curiosity, turning her head to look at the headmaster. "Not to mention the effect such an announcement would have on the Wizarding world in general…" She shook her head. "It would be bedlam, to put it mildly…"

"They'll get over it," Harry chipped in, his voice laced with a heated sarcasm. Everyone looked at him. "They'll be all up in arms for a little while, sure … but they'll find someone more appropriate to stand on a mantle, soon enough I imagine…"

"Oh, not to worry," Ron's voice suddenly announced, sounding quite superior. "You don't really stand on much anymore, after you dragged Diggory's body out of the Maze, last year. Even after last term, most of the public think you're the one who killed him … if only through association. I really _can't _see how they came to that conclusion…"

The tone of Ron's voice spoke more than his words, and Harry looked at his shoes intently. He clenched his fists, as he tried to contain his misery, but he knew it wasn't working, so he took a fleeting glance around the room before disappearing in a plume of misty, black smoke…

***

Hermione stared at the place Harry had sat only a second ago, still seeing the pain in his eyes at Ron's words. The thought of Ron brought her head whipping in his direction, leaping to her feat and advancing on the boy angrily.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!!" she screamed, standing not a foot from Ron as he sat in his chair. He looked quite smug, and it made her seethe even more. She barely noticed that her hands were clenched tightly at her side, shaking slightly with her anger. "Did you forget that Harry was your FRIEND!!?? That he tried to _kill himself_ not twelve hours ago – "

"He'd be doing the world a favour then, wouldn't he!" Ron cut her off; standing abruptly, and making Hermione take a step back in horror. They both seemed to forget that adults surrounded them…

"How could you say that?!" Hermione cried, feeling her eyes start to burn. "How can you just throw away the past five years with him?"

"The past five years have been a lie, Hermione!" Ron yelled back, stepping towards her as she continued to slowly back away from him. "That was never "Harry Potter" … it wasn't even a bloody _human_! It was a bloody _Construct _made to _kill all of us_! A damn _freak_ that was – "

SMACK!!

Ron reeled backwards as Hermione slapped him with all her might, spurring the other Wizards and Witch into motion, who until that point had watched the needed argument play out.

Hermione was shaking, breathing unsteadily, as Remus gently coerced her back to the couch. She glared back over at Ron, feeling satisfied at the redness rapidly appearing on his cheek, while he was forcedly pushed back into his chair by a rather pissed Snape.

"He is being Obliviated, Albus!" the Potions Master growled, drawing his wand and pointing it right between Ron's eyes.

"Severus, stop it!" Dumbledore commanded, his tone the rarely used hard and stern. "Mr Weasley, although sadly short sighted, no more deserves a Memory Charm than Sirius belonged in Azkaban." Snape lowered his wand, but was still making Ron shake with his icy stare. Dumbledore looked at Ron, and his regular gentleness was nowhere in sight. "Mr Weasley, I am going to give you one, and _only_ one chance, to fix the damage that you caused. Just think, Mr Weasley …… you have just almost completely destroyed the friendship that has endured so much, purely because you chose to not understand the situation. Your false prejudices have almost laid that bond of five years to ruin. Harry is still Harry. Who he is has not changed in the slightest. Miss Granger was able to see this from the start, and rather than reject her _friend_, she chose to help him through his troubles."

Ron was still looking stony, much to Dumbledore's disappointment, as they all could see. The Headmaster seemed to age in a second, as he shook his head and sat back in his chair.

"What is it that you find so hard to accept about Harry, Mr Weasley?" he continued, looking at the redhead sadly over his half moon glasses. "Is it that he is an Avatar, and wields so much more power than you do? Or is it what he was originally intended for, and who he was to serve if all went to plan? Maybe it is that, in your eyes, he is no longer really "Harry" … but is now "Callen"… Professor Snape's son…?"

Ron was silent, glaring at the Headmaster like he never had before.

"Maybe it's all three?"

Everyone turned to look at Remus, who was stepping toward Ron, not taking his eyes off him. "But most of the problem, I believe, isn't just those … but that Harry simply is no longer, _human_. Isn't that right, Ron?" Remus stood in front of Ron now, who was no longer looking defiant, but staring at the ground. "What is it you hate so much about Non-human beings? I remember how you first reacted to me, in the Shrieking Shack that night. Even after having that kind of treatment for most of my life, I would be lying if I said that your immediate revulsion didn't hurt in some way. Now, I'd only known you for that school year … and you hurt my feelings … and I was somewhat used to it. Harry, however, found out who he really was not one _week _ago! He'd had to deal with this on his own until he invited you both to come and stay with him, so he could _tell you_. Then you … his friend of five years, immediately rejected him not only because he turned out to be Severus's Son, but also because he wasn't a human anymore…"

Remus bent, so that his face was inches from Ron's. "Think of how _he_ feels about all of this, Ron. I can assure you that he is not happy with his situation. Yes, Harry has accepted his relationship with Severus, to some extent … but he hates the fact that he's an Avatar almost as much as you do. He proved that last night, when he tried to commit _suicide_! How did you feel, Ron, when you heard of what Harry had done? Before you knew about all of this, and thought he was just Harry?"

The room was deathly silent, as everyone stared at Ron, wondering what he would do. Remus stood up straight again, still looking down at the redhead, but his gaze was no longer frosty. He looked over at Dumbledore, asking a silent question. Dumbledore looked a little unsure, but soon nodded his approval about something.

"You know, Ron … I can attest to how Harry is feeling, at the moment … and how he felt last night." He didn't flinch as everyone other than Dumbledore looked sharply at him. He nodded, "Only Albus and Poppy had ever known that I'd tried at least twice to take my own life, while I was still here. James had found me the first time, and I tried to finish the job while I was in the Hospital Wing. They had me in restraints for a while, and in that time, James would visit me. We would talk about anything, in the short time he was allowed to see me, and I will say that, his friendship is what made me realize that I had chosen to do something extremely foolish." Remus looked down at Ron again, obviously directing his story towards him. "I needed him, during that time, desperately. He was one of my closest friends, and I depended on him to keep my sanity. I couldn't imagine being alive today, if he'd turned on me for it, and I won't bother thinking of how my life would have been if my friends had deserted me when they discovered what I was. Harry needed you for support on _both_ accounts, and you _abandoned_ him!"

*****

Harry jerked his head away from the wall at the harsh comment Remus had directed at Ron, as he hovered lazily in the air outside Dumbledore's office, his large and feathery wings beating leisurely behind him. He'd teleported directly outside, transforming in the split-second transition, and hovered instinctively. His wings, seemingly gave him a kind of mystical flight, not actually needed to beat like a birds to stay aloft, but still needing to be present if he wanted to take to the air. A simple beat every now and then was enough to keep him steady. The feeling was so much more exhilarating than flight by Broomstick.

Hearing the group inside resume their debate, Harry turned and headed towards the Quidditch Pitch. The desire to work off his growing despair was alluring, and if he was going to test his flying capabilities, he needed somewhere open, and free of obstacles. True, he could test himself more effectively around the Towers and Parapets of Hogwart's, but Harry reasoned that an open field would be best to begin with…

*****

"This isn't a good situation, Albus," Severus stated in the now near-vacant office. Remus and Minerva had left earlier, escorting Ron back to Harry's room to remove his belongings in preparation to shifting back to his home at The Burrow as he had suggested … but with his memory intact.

The hot headed teen had only been told to keep his mouth shut (in a more contrite manner), and to stick with the story that they had concocted together. Apparently, the Deatheater activity is getting too close to home, and Albus thought it best to send both Ron and Hermione back to their respective homes … but that's only so long as the little twit kept to that story.

Granger had stormed off not long after them, though Severus could tell that her behaviour was not real anger, but some kind of want to comfort. He knew that her and his son were very good friends, and that she had taken mere minutes to completely accept both aspects of his life… That to him at least, Harry was Callen, and that he was no longer a member of the human geno.

He was at least reassured on that fact, that his son had someone to confide in if he so desired.

Albus looked up at him after a moment of staring out his window, apparently smiling at something he saw in the distance.

"I am well aware of the situation, Severus," he explained patiently, reaching over to the silver bowl on his desk, and popping a Lemon Drop into his mouth. "And as unsightly as it is to you, there isn't much choice in the matter. We can't just Obliviate the boy, and it's only going to be detrimental to Harry's development if he remains … therefore, he goes."

"But he could still inform his parents of what Cal has become, not to mention who his Father is!" Severus stormed, throwing his hands up in the air and stepping around the desk to come face to face with the sagely old Headmaster. Sometime's, Severus just couldn't understand some of the things that Albus did, seemingly without thinking it all the way through before he made any kind of decision. "Do you have _any_ clue as to how dangerous this could be?!"

"Of course I do, my boy," Dumbledore nodded, still with an annoyingly calm expression and manner. "I know the _potential_ dangers if the wrong people discovered the truth about Harry, but honestly Severus, who on earth would dare to try anything against him, even if they _did _find out about him? He is, after all, an Avatar…"

"It is not physical damage I was referring to, Albus," Severus replied in a whisper quiet voice, turning his gaze out the window. "They won't attack him, no … but they will shun him. It's occurred before, and you know it. They will despise him. They will degrade him … _Humiliate_ him, using any means possible. I know they will…"

"Well, he should be somewhat used to that by now, given how you treat him in class – don't look at me like that!" Dumbledore held up a finger, almost in a reprimanding fashion. "I know that a lot of that was an act, but face the truth, Severus, and agree with me when I say that quite a bit of the way you treated Harry over the years has been because of your rivalry with the boys fath – erm … James."

Severus ignored the slip, and sighed heavily, letting his eyes scan the sky thoughtfully. He had to admit that what Albus had said was mostly correct … and there was a part of him that was now regretting that behaviour. Just as he nodded his head in acquiesce, a movement caught his eye in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch. Frowning, feeling the habitual caution of the unknown flare up, he squinted as he tried to see whatever the rapidly moving object was.

"Ah … I see you have noticed him as well," said Albus, as Severus heard him stand and felt him settle next to him, looking out the window.

"Who?" Severus asked absently, though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

"Your son, my boy," Albus answered quietly. Severus subdued a strange shiver that ran up his spine at the title … it was still such a foreign idea to him … being a parent.

"What's he doing, Albus?"

The headmaster took a moment to stare at the powerful, yet elegant and graceful figure, as it bent and twisted in it's flight, testing the limits of manageability and speed. It was almost a dance, hypnotizing those that watched with the fluidness and agility being displayed.

"I suspect that he's merely testing himself, Severus," Albus answered finally. "Though, I believe it has the added bonus of working off his agitation at Mr Weasley. Something I suspect he will be doing a large amount of, this year, I'm afraid…"

"I need to teach him how to contain his emotions, Albus," Severus stated suddenly. "As powerful as I believe he will be, his powers would be much stronger, yet wilder, if he were extremely angry or desperate." He shook his head, and spoke in a voice laced with the smallest tinge of fear, "I dread to see what he could be capable of if he were to fly into a frenzy…"

"I wouldn't worry over it too much, Severus," Albus reassured gently, patting him on the shoulder. "Harry is rather even tempered, and it usually takes quite a lot to get him _that_ riled up. But it wouldn't hurt to teach him to keep his emotions in check, I suppose, so go ahead … just remember to keep you own under control, is all…"

"I am _quite_ capable of – oh never mind…" Severus cut off his argument and grumbled, turning his eyes back to the movements at the Quidditch Pitch. Tapping his wand to his eyes, Severus used the Sight Enhancement Charm again, in order to see his son's capabilities more easily.

It really was quite a stunning sight, to see the sharp twists and turns that his son was capable of. He tore down the Pitch, wings barely moving, then stopped dead for a split second, before rocketing skyward, spiralling as he climbed in height. Severus was awed by the fluidness and grace that Cal displayed, now knowing why the boy had always been good on a Broomstick. He'd be born for the air.

All of a sudden, Cal dived toward the Pitch at a blinding pace, making Severus's heart skip a beat. What the hell was the boy doing?! He watched, holding his breath as Cal sped downward, the ground growing ever closer, yet he wasn't slowing – He would crash, Severus knew he would – An unintentional, strangled yelp left his throat, as he saw the blur that was Callen, come mere inches from the Pitch … and vanish as his body burst forth black smoke, reappearing before the cloud had dispersed in the same fashion, only now he was tearing skyward again from the other end of the Pitch, as though he'd not almost become road kill.

Severus let out the breath he was holding, pressing his hand to his forehead as he turned from the window, unable to watch anymore. Was the boy _trying_ to give him a heart attack? It certainly seemed that way…

"You know that the worst that would have happened, was that we'd have a rather large dint in the Quidditch Pitch, Severus," Dumbledore stated amusedly, his blue eyes twinkling merrily at him. "If he'd have mistimed his dive, he wouldn't have been seriously injured, regardless of the speed he was travelling, and you know that. He'd've been up and running again in a few minutes, right as rain…"

Severus scowled, knowing the Headmaster was telling the truth … but he couldn't help his reaction. It just happened for some reason, and he told Dumbledore so.

Smiling, Albus nodded, "I understand, Severus … it's merely parental instinct to keep your child from any danger, even if your brain knows better than to worry…"

"I wasn't _worried_ about him, Albus!" Severus snapped out of reflex. Eyebrows rose at him, and Severus shook his head and turned toward the door, pausing as Dumbledore spoke again quietly.

"It's okay to care, Severus. He needs you right now … be there for him…"

Severus didn't reply, or show that he'd heard, and slowly strode out of the Office, shutting the door behind him.

*****

"Callen!"

Harry looked down at the Pitch and saw his father waving him down. He grimaced, actually enjoying the time he was flying under his own power, learning his limits, but he reasoned that he'd been out long enough, and drifted downward, landing easily right in front of the Slytherin and folding his wings against his back.

"You called, Sev?" he smirked, looking down amusedly at the top of his father's head.

Scowling at having to look _up_ so far, Severus bluntly informed him of his new training in Emotional Control.

"Any extreme emotion will make your powers both stronger, yet less controllable, so you need to be able to keep them under control almost at all times … no matter _how_ tempting it is to loose your cool at people…"

Harry saw the sense in the reasoning, and agreed to go down to Severus's chambers twice a week to practice. Snape even told him it would help with his Occlumency in the long run, if he wished to continue training in it.

"What happened to Ron?" Harry suddenly asked, as the two headed silently back towards the Castle, avoiding the question and the memories his abysmal failure in the subject, resulting in his manipulation that lead to Sirius's death. "Did he leave?"

He saw Sev look up at him questioningly, but Harry was more focussed on the Magical Signature he could see leaving the school…

"Yes, he did. His memory is still intact, unfortunately, but Albus has warned him to keep quiet about everything he found out about you and me." Sev looked up at him, brow creased. "How did you know he'd left?"

Harry repeated the information he'd told Hermione about his eyes, and his ability to see a Magical Scent, for lack of a better term. "… And I could see Ron's leaving the school … it looked rather recent…"

Sev nodded, "It was. About an hour ago, Mr Weasley was packed and escorted back to his home by both Remus, and Minerva…"

"And Hermione?"

Sev glanced up at Harry, before answering, "She left in a bit of a tizzy not long after Weasley, but she at least will remain for your benefit. She's a very good friend to you, you know," he added softly, feeling strange at getting all sentimental, but another part of him was enjoying this little walk with the boy.

"Yeah, she is…" Harry replied, almost inaudibly, as he absently fingered the Phoenix necklace Hermione had given him for his birthday. _"I don't deserve a friend like her…"_

Severus looked up at Harry sharply, but he was no longer paying attention to him, and most likely unaware that he'd projected his last thought for him to hear. The fact that Harry had thought such a thing made Severus realize just how lacking in self-confidence the boy really was. Not that the way he'd been treated at his Muggle relatives house had helped him in that regard. The boy probably didn't think himself worthy of much anything anymore…

"I saw some of your flying, earlier on, Callen," Severus spoke up after a short silence, wanting to take the boy's mind from the darker thoughts he knew were floating around in his troubled mind. "I must confess that you nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw some of your manoeuvres. It was quite a stunning display…"

Harry felt his cheeks grow warmer than usual at the praise, unaccustomed to it as he was. "Thank you, sir," he muttered, not looking Severus in the eye.

"Sir?" Sev questioned, frowning up at him. "I thought I told you to call me by my name?"

Harry looked away meekly. One second he'd impressed him, and the next he was back to being annoyed…

"I'm sorry … I didn't mean to …"

Sev sighed and shook his head, "You don't have to apologize all the time, Cal. I understand if you're not completely comfortable with saying my name yet. It's a big change – "

"It's not that," Harry interrupted swiftly. "It's just the reflex title for people in general, you know? Sir or Ma'am…"

Sev paused and looked up at the Avatar appraisingly.

Harry grimaced slightly under the gaze. "It's just being polite…"

"Well, I believe that your so called _manners_, are a direct result from your dear Uncle's treatment of you, Callen," Sev stated quite bluntly, knowing he was very correct when Harry visibly flinched at the fact. "And although you are correct when saying that they are titles of respect … I should tell you that respect and fear are not the same thing. You called your Uncle, _Sir_, from fear, not respect, but in hearing you say it, you made him feel authorative … Powerful. It gave him power over you…"

Harry focused intently on his clawed feet, turning to the side slightly as Severus continued his talk. It was true that his Uncle had terrified him into obedience and an etiquette that wasn't displayed by anyone else at the Dursley residence, and Harry found that loathsome. He was so weak compared to Vernon, and he let him walk all over him, degrade him; assault him in both mind and body. It was pathetic.

It didn't matter how strong he appeared to be to the world, for there would always be someone stronger … more powerful than himself. It didn't have to be in mere force of Magic or Might…

"Callen? Are you listening to me?" Severus's irritated voice cut through his musings like a dagger, startling him. Harry looked at Sev, and saw that the man was frowning at him heavily. Harry swallowed. Sev hadn't looked at him like that since the end of school. "I'm trying to give you some Fatherly advice here, and you're ignoring me!"

"I'm sorry!" Harry breathed, tensing up reflexively, as memories of an angry Vernon sprung up in his mind's eye. "I didn't mean to, really! I was just thinking about things and kind of zoned out! I won't do it again, I promise…"

Severus sighed and patted Harry on the shoulder, exhaling heavily when he flinched away from the touch. He dropped the hand to his side, while the other ran through his raven hair, his head shaking hopelessly.

"I'm _not_ going to hurt you, Callen!" Sev exclaimed, looking up awkwardly to look Harry in the eye. "Not that I could at the moment, but that's besides the point. I would _never_ do such a thing wilfully, … I give you my Word as a Wizard … All right?"

Harry was still for a moment as he thought it through, before nodding stiffly, his eyes still shining with shame at his reaction to his Fathers touch.

Sev smiled lightly, and again reached out to rest his hand on Harry's shoulder, smiling even wider when he remained still and accepted the gesture. Giving the broad shoulder a light squeeze of reassurance, he informed Harry of the nearing Dinner, and escorted him to the Great Hall.


	22. Old Habits Die Hard

****

Chapter Twenty Two: Old Habits Die Hard

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry was sitting at the Head Table, enjoying the Tuna Bake he was sampling, sitting between his Father and Hermione. He'd decided to Shift back into his Human Façade for Dinner, so he didn't draw as much attention to himself, and took up less room. Severus had mentioned something about needing to clean up a bit before eating, but Harry's response was merely cocking an eyebrow and clicking his fingers. Not a second later, he was clean as a whistle, his hair was pulled back with a strip of black silk, and he was in a simple green tee-shirt and denim jeans; obviously showing off the fact that he had a body worthy of display.

Hermione's jaw had almost hit the ground when she saw him, but she regained her composure quickly and hadn't treated him any different all night … something Harry was appreciative for.

"Yes Harry?" Dumbledore answered his query, turning his head for a second to glance at him, before returning his vigil to his lasagne.

"Sir, as much as I appreciate you letting me use some of the schools old clothing and robes, I would very much like to buy my own sometime, to replace the ones that … I, um, lost…" Harry looked sideways at Hermione, hoping she didn't pick up on the _real_ reason he had to get his things replaced. He had yet to inform her of the actual reason he was brought to Hogwarts, and hopefully it would stay that way, let alone her finding out that almost all his Hogwarts possessions went up in smoke.

"I don't see why you couldn't make a trip to Diagon Alley, so long as you were accompanied by one of us. No one is about to recognise you if you look like yourself, so the danger should be quite slim."

"One problem," Remus spoke up from the other side of Albus and Minerva. Everyone looked at him. "Your scar, Harry. It's in plain view if you have your hair tied back, and even if you have it out, all it would take for a gust of wind for the whole world to see it."

"Good point," Harry muttered, frowning in thought. "Easy solved," he muttered a second later, smirking as he brushed the famous mark with his fingers. Everyone stared wide eyed at the now unblemished forehead; all traces of the scar invisible.

"What did you do to it?" Hermione asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

"I moved it," was Harry's answer. "I knew that I couldn't just make it vanish, so I just shifted it somewhere else."

Severus smirked evilly, "And where exactly would that be, if you're so sure no one will ever see it?"

Harry blushed fiercely. "You're evil, you know that?"

The smile widened, "It's a natural talent…"

"I hope it's not a hereditary trait then," Remus remarked, laughing heartily at the identical scowls sent to him by the pair of Snape's.

Harry placed his fork on his plate and folded his arm on the table, still looking a little disgruntled. "Well if you _must_ know, I stuck it on my arse! That way _no one _will see it, unless I go running around in my birthday suit…"

"Ok," Remus grimaced, "I _didn't_ need that visual, thank you…"

"You're welcome," Harry answered, letting a small grin grace his lips. "But you really should be thanking dear old Sev here, as he was the one who wanted to know so badly."

"Not that badly," Sev muttered under his breath, though it was loud enough for all of them to hear it, sending a chuckle along the table.

"Um, … Remus?" Harry asked hesitantly, a few minutes after everyone had settled down and resume their Dinners. Remus looked up at him, nodding for him to continue, as he still had a mouthful of sausages. "I … I was wondering how … the Weasley's reacted when you took Ron home?" Harry stared at the Werewolf, "Did they say anything? Did they believe what you told them, or do they know something else happened?"

Remus put his knife and fork down, and wiped his mouth on a napkin, before turning to Harry looking rather serious. "Well, Harry, You can imagine Molly's surprise when both Minerva and I turned up on her doorstep with her son, the day after she dropped him off here to stay for the summer. We told her the story that Albus had made up, and by looking at her, she didn't really believe us…"

"Thankfully, Molly has enough sense not to question something Albus has done that's out of the norm," McGonagall added, seeing the apprehension on Harry's face. "After Mr Weasley had gone up to his room, Molly queried if the reason her son had been sent home early was because he'd done something … but she understood when we said that we couldn't tell her."

Harry let out a small breath, relieved that Mrs Weasley had at least accepted the fact that Ron wasn't any longer there for the summer. "What about the Twins, and Ginny? Were they there? Did they question it at all?"

Remus grinned, "Well, the Twins take almost everything in stride, so they barely batted an eyelid at the change, and Ginny was a little confused, but after Molly told her not to worry over it, she just went back to whatever it was that she'd been doing. Arthur was still at work, so he won't know until a little later…"

"That's good," Harry sighed, feeling relieved. "I just hope he doesn't tell anyone anything solely out of spite…"

Severus let a condescending chuckle emit from his throat. "If he knows what's good for him, he won't."

"After all … who'd want the feared Potions Master, _and_ an Avatar after his blood?" Dumbledore added, his beard twitching at the edges.

*****

Harry opened his eyes just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. Now that he had no need of sleep, he'd opted to leave his room at around Midnight, and spent the rest of the early morning sitting atop the North Tower; eyes shut and relaxed, his legs crossed Indian style. The air was chilled, sitting so high up, but Harry didn't react to it. He liked the resistance to the elements that being an Avatar gave him.

Standing on the steep roof, Harry took a deep, cleansing breath, before grinning like a madman and climbing down the outside of the Tower, using the rough stones for holding points. It was an extraordinary feeling, being capable of so much more than what he had before his transformation … and yet, Harry could _feel_ that he'd barely scratched the surface with the things he could potentially achieve. It was like sections of his mind were still closed off to him, each one containing a selection of things he could control.

He could barely wait for them to unlock themselves to him.

Reaching an outcrop of roofing, Harry leapt onto it and stood like a statue for a few minutes, enjoying the rare, peaceful moment, of watching the dawning of a new day. The happenings of yesterday were the past … and it was time to live in the present.

Sighing, as the sun grew higher, Harry looked at where he'd dropped himself, and grinned when he found he was near his own and Hermione's rooms. Briefly, Harry wondered if she was awake yet, so he reached out his hand and pressed it to the cool stone, extending his senses in probing. He opened his eyes again and smiled when he detected Hermione's energy, smiling wider when he found it dormant, meaning she was still asleep.

Harry cancelled his probe, and spontaneously decided to Paft into her room (He'd decided to name the ability, and chose something that resembled the way it sounded). The next instant, Harry saw the black smoke bursting forth from him, then dispersing, as he now clung magically to Hermione's roof, his back facing the ceiling, as his fingers and feet clung to the stone behind him.

Harry took one hand from holding, and tried to brush his hair from his vision, as it hung limply in front of his face. Beneath him, and a little to the side, was Hermione, soundly asleep in her bed, and unaware of the mischievous intruder clinging to her roof like a spider.

Harry waved a hand, and conjured a very real looking, yet completely harmless, Acromantula. He remembered the giant spiders from his second year quite vividly, and was wondering how Hermione would react to the conjuration. Quietly, Harry shuffled up further, so he wasn't in Hermione's direct line of sight when she woke, before commanding his little pet to climb up onto her bed.

Harry was grinning like a Cheshire cat, watching the spider (that was about as large as a Labrador) inch it's way up Hermione's bed. She stirred when the legs started to touch her, rolling over onto her side, her bushy hair fanning over the pillow. The next moment, her eyes snapped open, for the spider had finally reached her torso, its legs arching over her shoulders as though caging her. For a split second, Harry regretted disturbing her sleep, but the next moment he felt a little guiltier for a different reason.

Hermione let out a piercing scream and instantly backed up against the headboard of her bed, frantically pushing herself away from the monstrosity in front of her. Harry heard the spider hiss at her menacingly, through his hands that he'd placed over his ears at the shriek, but at seeing the terror in Hermione's eyes he waved his hand and dropped from the ceiling, landing on his feet right by her bedside as the spider melted into nothingness.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked, kneeling beside her and peering into eyes that were still fixed where the spider had been moments beforehand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you so much, honest! I just wanted to see how you'd react … you are all right, aren't you?"

He studied his friend as she slowly turned her brown eyes toward his green, undiluted fear brimming in them fiercely. Her breathing was sharp and gasping, and Harry was sorry to see she was shaking a little as well.

"Why did you do that?" Hermione whispered, a sadness lacing her words that cut Harry like a blade.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, really I am," Harry breathed in answer, hanging his head reproachfully. "It was only a joke, but I didn't think that you'd react the way you did!"

He looked up at her again, pleading forgiveness with his eyes, and feeling relieved when he saw Hermione begin to calm down and regain some composure.

"Don't ever do that again," she said simply, but with more conviction than Harry had ever seen in her.

Harry nodded vigorously, and smiled a little when she let a grin flit across her face. "I'm _really_ sorry, Hermione … I was only after a bit of fun before we went to Diagon Alley today. I mean … it's really boring at night when you don't have to sleep anymore…"

Hermione tutted at him and sat up straighter, though smiling, "Well if _that's_ your idea of fun, then remind me to never piss you off."

Harry's jaw hung open for a moment, shocked, as Hermione promptly hopped out of bed and threw him out so she could change, but before he got out the door, he regained the use of his voice and exclaimed: "'Mione, you _swore_!"

*****

After an early breakfast, Harry and Hermione went for a short walk around the Lake, killing some time, before heading back to the Entrance Hall to meet Severus and Remus, who were accompanying them both to Diagon Alley.

"What do you think Snape will be like in class now, Harry … now that you both know you're Father and Son?" Hermione asked, curiosity shining in her eyes, as they both sat on the bottom steps of the Marble Staircase. "Do you think he'll still treat you like dirt, or will he be a bit fairer, maybe?"

Harry pondered over the question for a minute before answering, "I don't think he'll change the way he appears to the students, so long as he's spying for Dumbledore, Hermione," he looked at his hands, which were linked together in front of him, his elbows on his knees. "He's got to keep up appearances for the Slytherins that have Deatheaters as parents … so unless he quits spying, or is caught out and comes back alive, I don't think he'll change how he treats me in public…"

"Not that you have to worry about that this morning, Cal … as no one will recognise you," Severus's voice said quietly, as he and Remus strode up to them, just leaving the Great Hall. "Remember … you don't look like you used to unless you want to. You're just another person today…"

Harry smiled a little as he stood, running a hand through his raven hair, revealing the unblemished forehead for them to see.

"Yeah … it's going to be strange, not being recognised I mean," he commented, feeling almost nervous at the idea. "At least I'll finally be able to act like myself and not have to worry about anyone twisting it to make me look demented or something…"

"Harry," Hermione grinned, "No one will even think about relating you with "Harry Potter" because you look not only completely different, but you look about seven or eight years older than your other self. Stop worrying so much…"

"Why, yes ma'am," Harry grinned, giving Hermione a mock bow and tipping an imaginary hat to her, receiving a swat to the arm for his effort. He chuckled lightly, enjoying the playfulness that had been denied him since his early childhood, before turning to his father and Remus, saying, "So … shall we go then?"

*****

After walking down the path into Hogsmeade, and entering the Three Broomsticks, the quartet Flooed into the Leaky Cauldron; Harry still not managing to keep his balance even _with_ his new prowess. His father had to steady him before Hermione stepped from the fire easily, making Harry scowl a little, brushing the soot off of his tee shirt and jeans.

"How can you do that so easily?" he asked her, just as Remus came tumbling from the green flames. "Even with – " he waved a hand, encompassing himself, "– _everything_, I _still_ can't not fall out…"

Hermione sighed, but still had a smile on her face. "It's not that hard, Ha – "

"_Callen_," Harry hissed quietly, stepping forward to speak into her ear. "I'm not me, remember?"

"Sorry," Hermione breathed, looking truly appalled at her forgetfulness. "I won't forget again. Will I call you Callen, or just Cal?"

Harry smiled warmly. "Whatever takes your fancy," he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't mind, but Dad usually calls me Cal, so I suppose that will …… What?" he asked, as he saw Hermione look at him, almost beaming with joy, before she looked over his shoulder and became a little apprehensive, her eyes flicking between them. Harry turned around, only to see his father standing by his shoulder, his face torn between surprise, resignation, and a joy he'd never seen on the man's face before. Remus was also staring at him, but Harry could tell that the only emotion on his features was pride.

"What?" he asked again, looking between the three of his companions.

"You – " Severus started, his voice clearly thick with emotion, but he stopped and cleared it before continuing, "You just called me … Dad…?"

Harry stared at Sev for a moment, replaying his words earlier, realizing that it had just popped from his mouth, as though he'd always said it in reference to the man standing before him.

"I did," he answered hesitantly. "I'm sorry, it just came out … if you don't want me to – "

"No!" Sev cut him off suddenly, swallowing the lump in his throat. He stepped forward and clasped Harry's shoulder firmly. "No, no Cal, it's fine … I just – I never thought that I'd hear that in reference to myself. It's a little strange … but I'm quite sure I'll get used to it fast enough."

Harry frowned, cautious at his father's reaction. "Are you sure? I won't if you don't want me too, … not to mention that I'd be announcing to the Wizarding World that you had a Son…"

Severus smiled a little, shrugging. "We were planning to introduce you as my Son anyway, so why not make an early start on the show?"

Harry grinned impulsively, feeling warmth spread through his chest at the thought of actually being able to publicly claim his father as such, never having been able to do such a thing before. It was a strange feeling, but it certainly wasn't one that he wanted to rid himself of anytime soon. "But how do we explain Hermione?" he questioned suddenly, grin vanishing as he shot a concerned look towards his friend. "And Remus too? Why would they be with a couple of Snape's?"

"The general public know that I apparently don't like the father," Hermione jumped in, grinning in a surprisingly sly manner. "But who said that I have to hate the son? Or, we could have just run into each other, having no clue who the other was, hitting it off right away, until we run into your overbearing parent, thereby revealing who you actually are … not that I'd care where you came from, as I do believe I've proved quite sufficiently…"

"Indeed you have, Miss Granger," Severus cut in, though politely, "And we are all grateful for that appreciated attribute, but I do believe that I am not as overbearing as other parents might be, even though others might believe so…"

"They'd need to be convinced that you're even _capable_ of keeping a partner, Severus," Remus interjected, trying to hold the grin forming on his lips in check and failing.

Severus threw an indignant look at the Werewolf, standing up a little straighter, replying huffily, "For your information, Lupin, I'm perfectly capable of attracting members of the Female species to me…"

Remus stopped grinning, and gazed at Severus rather evenly, earning the attention of the two teens with them. "Who?" was all he asked.

Sev cleared his throat before looking around them uneasily, even though the other occupants of the Pub had pretty much ignored the little group. Glaring at Remus pointedly, he ignored the question and marched towards the back room, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was hidden.

"What was that about?" Harry asked to no one in particular, but still receiving two bemused shakes of heads in answer. Keeping that little piece of information at the back of his mind, Harry followed his father out the back, where the wall was currently opening wide for all of them to walk through.

Sev looked at them over his shoulder, still looking miffed. "Come along … we haven't got all day," he drawled, before turning away from them and striding through the archway, out of sight.

Harry half jogged forward to catch up, grasping Severus's arm lightly, "Hey, wait! What was that all about?"

"Mind your own business!" Sev hissed angrily, whipping his head around to glare at Harry, who instantly took a step away from him reflexively, averting his gaze.

"Yes Sir," he managed to whisper, keeping his head down, before turning away and heading down the line of shops and stalls, toward the large white building at the end: Gringott's Bank.

***

Severus felt his irritation melt into horror, as he saw his son balk away from him in response to his harsh reply. He shook his head slowly, watching him walk dejectedly towards Gringott's, wanting for all his might to call out to him, begging for forgiveness … but he was in a very public area, and had to maintain the illusion that he was a cold and indifferent semi-Deatheater.

Not a minute ago, he'd felt a warmth spread throughout his chest at hearing his son call him 'Dad', that he'd never felt before … but it was contrasted enormously with the cold and iciness now residing there, after the way he'd just shot the boy down.

A flash of bushy brown hair shot across his vision, as he saw Granger walking hurriedly after her friend, not even pausing to look back at him scathingly, which he knew she would want to do … so instead, Severus turned his eyes to the blazing hazel ones of Remus Lupin, only feeling able to hold the gaze for a moment, before lowering it to the ground, admitting without words that what he'd done was wrong … and probably damaging, considering what the boy had had to live with all his life.

He'd probably just ruined a good amount of the trust and comfort level that had been developing between him and Cal since his arrival at Hogwarts. He hoped Granger knew that he hadn't meant to sound standoffish, and could convince his son of the same…


	23. Something Unexpected

****

Chapter Twenty Three: Something Unexpected

Hermione shared a bemused look with Harry as Snape stormed off towards the entrance of Diagon Alley. She wondered what on earth would make the usually stoic, and even tempered man become so flustered, as she followed Harry with Remus beside her, arriving just as the archway finished opening; Snape standing in the entrance.

"Come along … We haven't got all day …" he shot at them over his shoulder, stepping into the Magical Mall without preamble. Hermione started to make a scathing remark about the Potions Master, but stopped as Harry dashed around the corner after him. Following suit, Hermione quickly followed, halting when she saw Snape suddenly turn on Harry, snarling at him to mind his own business.

She watched, shocked, as Harry flinched away from the man violently, appearing very submissive, which in itself Hermione found strange, before hurrying down the street dejectedly. She saw a look of horror on Snape's face as he stared after his son, telling her that he apparently didn't mean what he'd said, but at the moment Hermione couldn't care. Her first priority at present was Harry, and with that, she dashed off after him, seeing that he was headed towards Gringott's.

Ever since Harry had revealed, quite spectacularly, that he was not only an Avatar, but also Severus Snape's son, she had been worrying about how well he would be coping with it all. On top of that, he had the added pain of Ron's desertion to work through. The thought of Ron shot a wave of disgruntled fury through her, remembering the way he'd spoken about Harry in Dumbledore's office, right after Harry had told them about himself. How could he possibly treat someone who had been his best friend for five years in such a manner? She couldn't begin to fathom it.

"Stupid prat," she muttered to herself, cursing the Wizarding world for instilling all these false prejudices in its youth. She had read about what the Avatar's would have meant for Voldemort if he hadn't deemed them too wild and unpredictable for his liking, thereby setting off to destroy them all (which most of the Wizarding World believed had been achieved), but that didn't change the person that Harry had grown to become. Not one bit.

Unwittingly, a smile came to her face as she thought of the nasty prank Harry had played on her that morning. It had been extremely frightening to say the least, to wake from dreamland to find an Acromantula towering over her … but afterwards, while she'd been getting ready for the day after throwing Harry out of her room, she'd surmised that he needed to have a bit of a laugh, even if it was at her expense. Thinking back though, she remembered that Harry had done anything but laugh at her experience. He'd been so apologetic that she couldn't bring herself to be angry with him … but more than that … she'd seen a kind of fear in his eyes, almost as though he'd been worried she would flee from him as well.

Vowing silently that she would never desert Harry for any reason, no matter what anyone said about him, Hermione picked up her pace and weaved in and out of the bustling crowd, trying to catch up to her dark haired friend, still visible over the mobs heads. It was strange to see the Harry she knew so well, in the body of a stranger – an _older_ stranger, no less. Although the new look he sported seemed to fit him more comfortably, it was still a little unsettling to look at the twenty-something body and face. Hermione shook her head, clearing it of the jumble of thoughts running through it. She'd get used to looking at Harry's new face, as she knew that no matter an Avatar's personal power, they were all designed to be Ageless. Never to leave this plane from something as menial as Old Age. They could still die a violent death … but the more powerful the Avatar, the more difficult it became … and Hermione could tell that Harry was more powerful than anyone could have possibly imagined…

"Hey Har – Cal!" Hermione shouted out at the bottom of the white staircase leading into Gringott's, correcting herself just in time. That would take some getting used to…

She saw Harry turn, looking around a bit, before his eyes fell on her, his mouth curling at the edges in a small smile, though his emerald eyes remained saddened.

"Why the hurry?" she asked coyly, hoping to lift her friends spirits even a little. "You took off as if you were being chased by a pack of Manticore's."

"Ha!" Harry laughed, grinning down at her, his eyes sparkling cheekily. "No need to run, Hermione. I can Paft, remember?"

Hermione shot him a puzzled look, not knowing what he had mentioned. Seeing her apparent confusion, Harry quickly elaborated, "You know … they whole smoky-teleporty-thingy. It's what I've decided to call it…"

"Why Paft?"

"Well it kind of sounds like that, so, it's what I called it." Harry looked at her, seeming a little dejected. "It's pathetic isn't it? It's just that I didn't want to go around saying "Teleport" all the time, and thought that – "

"Har– " Hermione shook her head, cursing herself. "_Cal_ … Don't worry about the name you give it. It doesn't matter, and I don't really care what it's called, so long as I know what you're talking about, and that you don't take me on a surprise trip again without my saying you can…" she smirked as Harry looked away, grinning madly at the memory of the unexpected trip to the Great Hall the previous afternoon. She had to admit that it was the most shaking feeling she'd ever experienced … but reasoned that it was nowhere near the same for Harry, as he was naturally endowed with the ability.

"Okay Hermione," Harry answered finally, still smiling down at her, as he placed a hand on her back and gently guided her into Gringott's with him. "No more surprise demoleculerising. Unless you say that I can take you for the very short trip. Agreed."

"I'm glad we agree on something then," she laughed, watching a happier Harry walk over to a Goblin and hand them the key to his vault. She saw them exchange a few words, before the Goblin nodded, apparently satisfied, and motioning for one of the other Goblin's to escort him down to his vault. Harry waved at her, and she approached, wondering what he could want.

"Come for the ride?" he asked, quirking an arched eyebrow and grinning infectiously at her.

"Umm…"

"Oh c'mon Hermione," Harry begged, most childishly. "It'll be great fun! You've never even been in a Gringott's Cart before…"

"Ok, ok!" Hermione relented, though still smiling at the uncharacteristic boyishness Harry was displaying. "I'll come along this once, but I still need to convert my money…"

"Great!" Harry exclaimed, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet with glee. Hermione was finding it both adorable, and disturbing at the same time. He changed his disposition so spontaneously it was worrying, but she couldn't bring herself to end Harry's strange elation at the moment, and let the subject slide to the back of her mind.

To say that the hair-raising trip was calming to her nerves was a gross misunderstanding, and Harry had to hold Hermione steady as her legs shook with the subsiding adrenaline.

"How the hell can you enjoy something like that?" she groused, shaking her head while Harry grinned down at her.

"That's like asking me how I can enjoy flying, Hermione," Harry answered easily, handing the Goblin that joined them his key. "I don't have an answer for it, and I can't explain it. I just enjoy the feeling of wind whipping my skin, while flying through the air. Sure, a cart isn't the same as a broom, nor is a broom the same as under your own steam … but it's still the exhilaration of speed that makes me feel … I don't know – relaxed, I suppose…"

Harry trailed off, the smile no longer gracing his features, as Hermione watched him turn from her, entering his vault that had opened while Harry spoke to her. The internal berating for heading the discussion in that direction stopped, when she saw the vast amount of Gold and Silver in the gaps between the door and Harry's body. It was glittering faintly in the torchlight, making it seem as though the vault was full of fairies or fireflies, before Harry turned back to her, leather pouch full and jingling, and the huge door swinging shut again, snapping her from her little daydream.

"Goodness, Ha – Cal … I never knew you had so much – "

"I don't like to brag about the amount of money I have, Hermione," Harry cut in a little bitingly. "Not when there are other people that deserve it, who don't have that privilege."

"I wasn't implying that you did, Cal," Hermione replied gently, watching her friends face carefully. She knew that he was incredibly sensitive about certain subjects, and how much wealth he possessed was obviously one of them. "I was just commenting on the fact that I never knew how much you actually have. Aren't I allowed to do that?"

Harry's face softened a little, and now seemed a little self-reproachful. "Of course you can, Hermione … It's just not something I'm incredibly proud of." He looked at the vault as the Goblin started to get the Cart moving. "I mean … I have all this money that I really don't have need for, when there are people like the Weasley's who _don't_ have it…"

Hermione cleared her throat lightly before hesitantly saying, "Are you including Ron in that?"

"Ron may be acting like the world biggest prat at the moment, Hermione, save for Malfoy, but Mrs Weasley is still the closest thing I've ever had to a mother…" Harry trailed off and Hermione could tell that he was having something like an inner debate with himself. "Anyway," he said finally, "Ron will come around eventually…"

As much as Hermione wanted to believe that, as much for Harry's sake as her own, she could tell that her friend really didn't hold out too much hope for the friendship they had with the redhead reforming. It would be wondrous if Ron did come around eventually … but even if he did, their bond will never be the same again, strained by the rift that had formed over something so trivial.

They sat in companionable silence on the hellish trip back to the surface, where Hermione set off to the counter and converted an amount of Muggle money for Wizard currency, then heading out into the sunlight beside Harry, all set for a mini shopping spree. Hermione remembered Harry's initial hesitancy when talking about the reason he had to come here, mentioning replacing his things for some reason, and knowing him as well as she did, Hermione didn't ask why he would need to be using old school robes and clothing instead of his own, nor why he needed new school things. He would tell her when he deemed it necessary.

"Cal!"

Hermione looked toward the voice, feeling Harry do the same, when her eyes fell on the familiar figure in black standing at the base of the long, white staircase. Remembering what had happened earlier on at the entrance to the Alley, Hermione took a fleeting look at Harry, seeing that he also had seen Snape staring up at them, and noticed that he seemed to be torn between anger, and hope, though she couldn't discern why.

Remus suddenly appeared from the masses and waved them both over, asking them where they wanted to head to first. Harry requested his schoolbooks first, so they all marched off toward Flourish and Blotts; both Harry and Hermione remaining at the tail end of the group. Entering the shop, they split into pairs, after Snape had handed them their booklists for the year (he had apparently fetched them that morning from the Headmaster).

Hermione scanned her list, keeping in step with Harry, before steering them both towards the Charms and Curses section. Silently, they both picked up their required books, with Harry picking up old ones that they'd had to have in previous years, and much to her surprise, books that they weren't even required to read for their subjects.

"Ha – Cal, what are you doing?" she asked, watching him take yet another book about Curses from the shelf. "We don't need them this year?"

"I know that," Harry answered distractedly, still browsing the spines of the volumes facing him. "But if I don't read about them, I won't know them, if I need to use them. It's simple." He turned to face her, shooting a grin that spelled 'mischief' toward her. "Besides … the Ministry can't detect underage magic at Hogwarts because of all the ambient energy. Severus told me of it when he had me out testing my magical strength yesterday morning. I'll be able to practice them whenever I feel like it."

Harry turned back to browsing, and Hermione bit her lip, worrying that the Ministry _might_ have a way of detecting underage magic at Hogwarts. She wouldn't put _anything_ past that lot…

"You ready?" Harry asked suddenly, holding a pile of tomes so large he should have been barely able to hold them, even with his newfound muscle tone, yet he was hardly showing any effort.

Hermione shook her head, relieving herself of the slight daze. "Err … Sure, Cal, but, um … you might want to look more like you have to carry those with a _lot_ more strain…?"

After shooting her a quizzical look, Harry in turn studied the stack of books in his arms, before turning back towards her a little sheepishly.

"Oops," he muttered, shifting the pile so that he now held them with both arms, and putting a look of the utmost effort on his face. "Better?"

Hermione choked back the laugh building in her throat, but nodding all the same. He flashed a dazzling smile at her momentarily, before returning to the look of straining to hold himself upright, and proceeding to over-exaggerate staggering to the counter.

Letting out a light chuckle, Hermione shook her head and hauled her own books for the year up to the counter, just as Remus and Snape turned up for the same reason, both holding books, but not to the same degree as her and Harry. A rather loud _thump_ was echoed throughout the store when Harry half dropped his books on the counter, but almost no one looked up or noticed, almost as though people frequently walked around with a tower of books with them.

Hermione saw Snape and Remus raise their eyebrows at the large pile, but Hermione ignored them. If they weren't going to support Harry in his newfound interest to study, then to hell with them. She'd help her friend out no matter what anyone else told her.

The Cashier didn't even batt an eyelid at the stupendous tower, and calmly set about adding up the cost of the purchase (which Hermione presumed would be a small fortune). It wasn't until after the Cashier had shrunk Harry's purchase, and was halfway through her own that anything remotely interesting interrupted their morning.

They heard the bell tinkle, telling them that someone had entered the store for the umpteenth time, when a few seconds later, they heard a woman's voice call out hesitantly, "Severus?"

The four of them turned at the name, looking around for the caller, when a black haired woman stepped forward, looking straight at Snape, seemingly oblivious to the other's with him.

"Severus, is that you?"

Hermione turned to stare at Snape. Who on earth was this lady? She stood at about five foot seven and had long black hair that reached her waist, which was currently in a braid. Her figure wasn't that of a model, but neither was she plump, and her blue eyes were currently shining with surprised apprehension. Although she'd never seen this woman before, Hermione could sense some kind of familiarity about her … but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was.

"Jessica?"

Hermione was stumped at Snape's answer. He looked just as surprised as this 'Jessica' lady, yet the small sliver of joy she could see in his eyes was quickly becoming smothered by some kind of pain and anger.

"It's been a while," Jessica said quietly, not acknowledging the others with them, nor apparently the stupefied look on Remus's face as he stared at her, open mouthed.

"I would call a little over ten years a bit more than _a while_," Snape growled back in reply, though the tone of his words was more hurt than any actual spite. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Jessica seemed to hesitate over her answer, making Hermione suspicious about her immediately. She wasn't one to trust lightly these days, and judging by the look on Harry's face, he was thinking the same.

"I ah …" Jessica cleared her throat awkwardly. "I came here to get First Year supplies … for Elizabeth…"

Snape's jaw dropped, mirroring Remus. "I beg your pardon?"

Hermione found her own jaw hitting the floor, but shook her head and glanced at Harry, finding him alarmingly paler than usual. He seemed to come to the same conclusion that the rest of them had, but their musings were interrupted when Jessica spoke again.

"Elizabeth," she repeated awkwardly, glancing at both her and Harry, seemingly only just noticing they were there, "Um … perhaps we could meet somewhere more private to talk about …… Remus?!!" she gasped, a wide smile dancing across her face when she finally spotted the Werewolf, who for his part also seemed ecstatic at present.

"Hey, Jess," he grinned, walking up to her and giving her a light hug. "It _has_ been a while, hasn't it?"

"Can someone please explain to me what the _hell_ is going on?!!!"

Hermione turned to see a rather annoyed Harry, scowling in much the same manner as his father, at them. She barely registered Snape, Remus and Jessica staring up at him, before a voice piped up over the general storeroom chatter…

"Hey, Mum! Is this the right book, or is it – ?"

The voice stopped suddenly, just as the group turned to look at its origin. Hermione stared at the young girl standing behind Jessica, seeing the perfect blend of her Mother, and Professor Snape. Her eyes were the stunning blue of her mothers, as was her raven hair, cut to just below her shoulders, hanging loosely around the sharp features she obviously inherited from her father. Sporting a normal tee shirt and jeans, contrasting her mother's casual dress, Hermione could tell that she was familiar with the way Muggles lived.

"Um …" Jessica stepped away from Remus and approached her daughter, glancing back at Snape anxiously. Hermione looked over at him, seeing the man wearing his cool mask yet again, betraying almost no emotion … but Hermione could see his eyes burning with emotion … ones that she'd only recently seen in him when he saw Harry. Thinking of her friend, she turned her eyes to Harry, finding herself warming when she saw the softness in his gaze, his green eyes fixed on the girl that was quite obviously someone he could call a sister.

"Yes, that books fine, sweetie," Jessica clarified. The girl was staring at everyone that was currently fixated by her, but her eyes were trailing longer on Harry and Snape, her brow furrowing with puzzlement.

"Err … Mum, do I know them at all?"


	24. Acceptance at Last

Hey there guy's!!! Got another Chapter for you, and I hope you like it! Remember to tell me if things are too confusing, or if something isn't done very well. I'm always wanting to improve!

Later!!

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Chapter Twenty Four: Acceptance at Last

Harry couldn't remove his eyes from the face of the young girl standing in front of him. As soon as she spoke, he'd looked at her, his hearing picking up on a familiarity in her vocal signature. And there she was … unmistakably a child of his father. All thoughts on the history between the three adults with him shot out of reach, leaving all of his focus on someone he could call his sister. Elizabeth, that Jessica woman had called her, hadn't she? He was sure that was her name. Briefly, Harry wondered what her last name was? It obviously wasn't 'Snape'…

"No, honey, you don't know them," Jessica's voice startled Harry from his thoughts, though his eyes never left those of Elizabeth, who he found had the same fascination with him as he did her.

Elizabeth frowned with confusion, her bright blue eyes flicking between himself and his father. "Are you sure, Mum?" she queried, handing her the book in her hand. "Those two," she gestured at the Father and Son, "seem awful familiar?" She locked eyes with Harry again, and he felt as though she was looking right through him, though it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. "Especially him," she added, pointing at Harry. "Do I know you, Sir?"

__

Sir? Harry blinked, then kicking himself mentally when he remembered that he looked about twenty two, instead of the sixteen he should have.

"I think we can save any introductions until later on," Jessica cut in just as Harry was about to answer the young girl. "Would – would you like to meet up later on today, Severus?" she asked hesitantly, glancing around the group, silently including them in on the invitation.

Harry glanced at his father, wondering what his answer would be, also noting that he seemed to have the same problem with keeping his eyes off Elizabeth as he himself did.

"Certainly, Jess," he answered finally, after tearing his eyes from Elizabeth. He nodded respectfully, "How about we meet in the Leaky Cauldron for Lunch?"

Jess nodded, "All right," she replied, stepping forward, gesturing for Elizabeth to stand beside her. "Are you going to finish buying your books, or are you going to keep us here all day?" she directed at all four of the group, though Harry could see a small grin playing about her lips.

"Oh! Sorry," Hermione exclaimed, turning quickly back to the Cashier, who had finished pricing her books, waiting patiently for Hermione to fish out her Gold.

"Makes me glad I got mine first," Harry remarked, grinning as Hermione scowled at him over her shoulder. Harry chuckled and shook his head, before giving in to his urges and stealing yet another glance at the young girl just behind him. She caught his eye, startling Harry at first, before giving him the smallest smile, as a silent "Hello." Harry felt a profound happiness fill him as he returned the small grin, a warmth he'd rarely ever felt before, along with excitement, anxiousness, apprehension, and a slew of other feelings he couldn't name. _A Sister!_ his mind screamed excitedly. _I never _dreamed _I'd ever have one!_

Hermione finished with her books and Harry left Remus and Sev, accompanying her outside, heading towards _Madame Malkin's_. Sending a mental message of where they were headed at Remus, Harry stole one more look at Elizabeth, before walking out into the early morning sunlight that beat down on him and every other early riser in the Alley.

As he and Hermione strode throughout the Alley, Harry revelled in the fact that absolutely no one had pointed him out, or given him a second glance. He _loved_ the anonymity that his _real_ appearance gave him. Even better was when they bumped into Parvati and Padma Patil from Hogwarts, and watching amusedly as Hermione was drilled with questions about the "cute guy she was with." Oh, how he would tease her mercilessly afterwards…

"Oh would you stop grinning like a lunatic!" Hermione groused, shoving him in the ribs with an elbow (she was the perfect height for it), as they wandered around the Apocothary, after having collected new Robes for the year. "It wasn't that funny! It was _embarrassing_ for crying out loud! Thank god we got away from them before they got a name from me…"

"Oh it wasn't that bad, Hermione," Harry tried to appease, plucking a jar of Fluxweed from the shelf, and dumping it with all the other ingredients he'd tossed into his new Cauldron. "I'm actually enjoying no one knowing who I am…"

"Hey! Hermione!"

Harry froze momentarily, feeling a sudden wave of shock roll off Hermione as well, before shaking it off and turning towards the set of voices that had called out, stepping slightly aside to let Hermione step forward and address the new arrivals.

"Hey Fred, hey George," she greeted, waving a little nervously as the two red-headed twins bounded over to her. Harry noted that they were still wearing the rather expensive looking Dragon-hide jackets he'd seen them wearing at Kings Cross when school finished. "How's the business going?"

George grinned, "It's going very well, actually," he answered, Fred nodding agreeably. "We just came by to get some more ingredients for our ingenious creations – "

"– and to get away from Ickle Ronniekins," Fred added a little irritably.

Harry was confounded by the statement, and Hermione appeared a little worried.

"Ron? Umm … Why?" she asked, flustered.

"Well," George began, "Ever since Professor Lupin and McGonagall dropped him back from Hogwarts yesterday – "

"– he's been moping around or snapping at everyone for the littlest thing," Fred finished, shaking his head. "I mean, just after we all had dinner, Ginny went up to talk to him – "

"– No idea what about," George added.

"Yeah … and next we knew – "

"– she's running down the stairs, balling her eyes out!" George shook his head, bewilderment clearly etched on his freckled features. "Mum went up to try and find out what happened – "

"– But no go," Fred finished, sighing. "Do you have any idea why he's being a prat worse than Percy?" he directed at Hermione. "You were at Hogwarts as well, weren't you? Along with Harry?"

"Um – well … yes?" Hermione managed to finally stutter out. "I was."

"Did anything happen to him while you were there at all?" George asked, sounding more serious than Harry had ever heard him. "Why the sudden about-face?"

"And we _know_ that the excuse about Deatheater activity isn't real," Fred added, pointing at her. "Hogwarts would have no trouble from them, so why send you both away? Not that I think _that's_ true either. You're still there … aren't you…"

Harry felt horrible that Ron was being such a burden on his family at the moment, especially after all Mrs Weasley had done for him … but Fred and George were definitely more perceptive than he'd given them credit for. To figure that out on their own…. Harry shook his head, deciding to put an end to all their speculation, and wanting to have at least _some_ of the Weasley family on his side, knowing the truth.

"Can we go to your shop?" Harry announced suddenly, cutting off Hermione's rather poor attempt of covering up the truth.

Fred and George looked over toward him, as though seeing him for the first time.

"Sorry?" Fred asked, shaking his head like someone who thought they'd heard something unbelievable.

"Your Shop," Harry repeated slowly, trying to grin reassuringly at them. "Can we – as in Hermione and myself – visit your Shop? There are things we need to tell you…"

Hermione turned to him in surprise, while Fred and George seemed to ponder over the stranger before them. "Are you sure?" she asked gently. Harry nodded firmly. Hermione held his gaze for a moment, but then nodded and returned her vigil to the Twins.

"Mind telling us your name first, Mr…?" Fred stated, lingering on the last, waiting for Harry to fill in the blank.

Harry only hesitated a second, before standing a little straighter, and announcing, "Snape."

Two sets of red eyebrows vanished into their hairline's, and their eyes widened, jaws dropped. Harry snorted at them, shaking his head at the display.

"You're a Snape?!" Fred hissed, looking almost mortified by the idea. "His son?" Harry nodded. "Who the hell would do Snape?!!!"

"Fred!" Hermione scolded, slapping his shoulder. "That's not very nice! Anyway … Professor Snape has actually been rather nice to us…"

"You're joking…" George breathed, still keeping his eyes on Harry. "You aren't anything like your Father, are you?"

Harry chuckled, seeing the small smile on George's lips at the question. "No, I'm nothing like the Snape you remember from school … but I would like to think I resemble him in some ways…"

"Well," said Fred, "if you're referring to your looks, I can say that you do resemble him. Now! I believe that you wished to inform us of something to do with Ickle Ronnie and the fact that Harry and Hermione are still at Hogwarts, yes?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I wanted somewhere a little more private than the Apocothary…"

"Not to worry, old chap," George remarked, slapping his shoulder good-naturedly. "Weasley Wizard Wheezes is the best place for privacy … especially in our back room where we work tirelessly to create new and improved pranks and hilarity for the youth of today."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but still nodded and headed toward the counter to pay for his new things.

"You know, it's strange seeing a Snape dressed as a Muggle," Fred commented evenly. "I thought the Snape's were Pureblood?"

"They are," Harry answered shortly. "Just because you've only ever seen my Father dress in black robes, doesn't mean that I do. I'm not him…"

"Cal," Hermione started softly, "They didn't mean – "

"– mean it that way, I know, Hermione, I know…" Harry finished, sighing heavily. "I'm allowed to be a little nervous about this though, right? Especially considering what happened last time…"

Hermione smiled reassuringly and placed a hand on his much broader forearm. "Well, remember that this is Fred and George you're talking about. I'm sure they'll be more understanding than their Brother…"

Harry sighed. "I hope so…"

After purchasing their ingredients, Harry and Hermione followed the two redheads out of the Apocothary and down Diagon Alley at a brisk pace. Harry was thankful that the place was still reasonably empty, as it let them move faster.

"Right this way, chaps," George announced with a flourish, waving them through the door of a decent sized building. Harry grinned, looking up at the sign hanging just above his head reading:_ Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes._

"Great name," Harry commented, grinning at George as he stepped over the threshold of his investment for the first time.

It was a moderate sized looking shop, with almost every wall, along with shelving and benches scattered all over, filled with lollies, gadgets, and a whole plethora of other unthinkable items strewn about. He recognised the Ton-Tongue Toffee's, the Fake Wands, the Canary Cream's, plus the things that the Twins had worked with the previous year, like the Skiving Snackbox, Vanishing Hats, and the range of Fireworks that they'd used to wreak havoc throughout the school in the quest to discourage the wretched Delores Umbridge.

Noticing the inquiring looks from the Twins, he shared a glance with Hermione, who smiled, and in unison both declared, "It's fabulous."

Fred and George grinned back at them happily, before leading them both into a back room, which was littered with broken who-knows-what, scorch marks, and craters ranging from the size of his pinkie, to something he could fit a Quaffel into.

"Take a seat, chaps," Fred directed, waving his wand and conjuring up two extra chairs for him and Hermione to sit in. With another wave, the door was shut and soundproofed with the same Charm the Order used when they had their Meetings. "Now," said Fred, sitting beside his brother. "What's all this you want to tell us about Ickle Ronniekins?"

Harry leant forward, and glanced nervously between the two twins, forming what he was going to say in his mind, before turning back to them. "Okay then … first of all, I should tell you, that you already know who I am, but not at the same time. We've met before, only I didn't look like I do at the moment. We've known each other for the last five years, and until yesterday, I was your brothers best friend…"

Fred and George blinked, glanced at each other, looked at Hermione, who nodded at them, before turning their eyes back to him.

"Harry?" they asked in unison.

Harry nodded, first letting his scar reappear on his forehead, then shifting back to the Harry they would have last seen. He gave them a weak smile, "Hey guys…"

"But – " Fred looked utterly bewildered, and George wasn't far off it. "Hang on here! How the hell are you a Snape?!"

"Easy," Harry replied. "Severus Snape is my Father. Not James Potter…"

"But you looked so much like him?"

"I know," Harry answered, looking at George. "It was a potion my Mother gave me when I was only a few weeks old, so that I'd resemble James. It wore off last week."

"Why would she do that though," Fred asked, seemingly accepting the fact that Snape was his father instead of James.

Harry drew a deep breath, "She gave it to me, so that no one would know who my Father really was, because he raped her on orders from Voldemort, along with half a dozen other women and Deatheaters, so he could create his Avatar's…"

"But…" Fred looked between Harry and Hermione, "I thought Avatar's weren't real? Something made up to scare us even more about Voldemort? About how they were supposed to have been the deciding factor in the previous war, only he got rid of them for some reason…"

"Those stories about Avatar's are quite real, Fred," Harry muttered. "My father made all sorts of potions for that night, and Voldemort cast all sorts of spells, all combining together so a Construct could be born to serve Him. It had to be conceived and born, so the body, with all the powers it was given, could handle it all without burning up. But Voldemort reasoned that, after they were born, that the Avatar's were insufficiently controllable, and set out to get rid of them before any of their Major Powers could manifest … but one lived, and that one stopped him fifteen years ago, as his power had already come out…"

Harry trailed off, as looks of understanding morphed Fred and Georges features into both shock and surprise.

"Great Merlin!!" Fred screeched, leaping out of his chair. "You're him, aren't you?! You're an Avatar!!"

"Wow!" George breathed in Awe, looking at Harry almost reverently. "You're the last one alive, aren't you…?"

"Wait…" Harry frowned up at them, shifting back into Callen, feeling more comfortable that way, but leaving his scar on his forehead for the moment. "You aren't scared? Worried? Unsure about me at all?" He looked at the Twin's shaking their heads at him, looking confused by his questions. "I just told you that I was, not only Snape's Son, but also a creature Voldemort created for his servitude, and you don't care?"

"Why would we?" said Fred, calming down a bit. "You're still you, right? The same bloke that gave us a start to our wonderful business!"

"Hang on a second," George cut in, looking at Harry seriously. "What has all of this got to do with Ron?"

"That should be obvious," Hermione spoke up after listening for the whole discussion. "He flipped out when Harry told us about who his father was, and that he's an Avatar. The result was getting him kicked back to The Burrow."

"Not to mention that Ron actually hit Hermione when she compared him to Malfoy in his prejudice tendencies," Harry added, scowling like his Father.

"He _what_?!!!!" Fred and George exclaimed angrily, shifting their gazes from Harry to Hermione.

"Oh, thanks loads for that, Harry," Hermione groaned, obviously not wanting that piece of information brought to light. "We really need these two on a warpath…"

"That little – "

"– unmentionable!" Fred cut over Georges expletive, though he wasn't jovial about it in any sense. The twins were looking as vengeful as he'd ever seen them before. It didn't pose well for Ron, that was for certain.

"Now, you have to promise that you won't tell anyone about what we've told you," Harry pressed urgently. "No one can know that Callen Snape, and Harry Potter are the same person, and even more secret is the fact that I'm an Avatar!"

"We aren't daft, Harry," said George. "We can understand that perfectly. Not to worry."

"And we'll sort out Ron for you too," Fred added. "We'll set him right."

"Thanks loads guys," Harry smiled, feeling as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "It means a lot that you don't think any worse of me…"

"Don't worry about it, mate," said Fred, getting his wand out and preparing to let down the Charm on the door. "You might want to get rid of your scar again though."

"Oh! Yeah," said Harry, focussing on moving the scar to his chest, hiding it in the marred flesh around his left shoulder, so that if by accident he was caught shirtless, the mark wouldn't be discernable. "Better?"

"That is way cool," George muttered, gesturing for Fred to get rid of the charm then opening the door for them to exit.


	25. A Step Backwards

Hey there guy's!! Sorry about being longer than normal, but I've been shifting around for the past week and a bit, so my normal routine sort of went out the window.

Well, it's nice to see that so many of you want to see Fred and George be the Devil incarnate towards Ron! He certainly deserves it. I'm happy that I got the Twins in character to an extent as well. I was worried they mightn't have accepted Harry's story so quickly in canon.

For those of you who wanted more info on Jessica and Elizabeth … sorry, nothing too deep here. A tidbit maybe, but nothing hugely revealing.

Anyway, please review and tell me what you think, what needs improvement, and any possible suggestions on where to head next? Here's the Chapter!!

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Chapter Twenty Five: A Step Backwards

Harry and Hermione wondered around the Alley after breaking from the twins, and collected the rest of their Hogwarts gear (Harry still replacing things), before Harry told Hermione that he had to visit Gringott's again.

"What for?" she asked, hurrying up the steps in an effort to match Harry's longer strides. "We were here not that long ago?"

"I forgot to do something," was all Harry said, walking through the doors and weaving between the larger volume of patrons that was there on their first visit.

Harry walked up to the closest Goblin and cleared his throat, not flinching in his gaze when the creature stared stonily up at him, seeming agitated about being disturbed from his paperwork.

"May I help you, Sir?" it asked with oily cordiality.

"You may," Harry answered frostily, matching the Goblin's cool air. "I require a Currency Conversion to Muggle Pound-Sterling. I would like to know the current exchange rate, please?"

The Goblin raised a bushy eyebrow, but still clicked his fingers, summoning a piece of parchment from nowhere. He took a moment to peruse it, before looking back up at Harry and answering, "The current rate of exchange for one Galleon, is five Muggle Pounds, Sir. It seems with the rise of the Dark Lord, Trade has slowed, hence the lower rate. It's simply not worth what it used to be. I remember a time when a Galleon could get you twenty Pounds … but that was some time ago…"

"Ah … I was wondering why I got more than I normally would have," Hermione spoke up, seemingly understanding what the Goblin had just said. "This year I got eighty Galleons, when last year I only got forty. Wow … That is a bit of a drop…"

"Indeed," the Goblin scowled. "How much did you wish to Exchange, Sir?"

Harry took out his money bag, counted out twenty Galleons, slipped them into his pocket, then handed what was left over to the Goblin, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Whatever's left in there," Harry declared firmly, grinning rather strangely.

The Goblin nodded, while Hermione looked at Harry in confusion. What on earth would Harry need Muggle money for? And why so much? They hadn't planned on going into Muggle London today…

A few minutes later, the two walked from the White Bank, on their way to the Leaky Cauldron for the meeting with Jessica; Harry shoving the approximate half-grand into his money bag, then fixing it securely to his jeans.

As it was nearing the mid-morning/Lunch timeframe, the small Pub and Hotel was much more crowded than it was when they'd first arrived. Harry found that he was given somewhat of a wider birth than anyone else in there, he figured solely due to the fact that he was noticeably larger than most of the others, yet Hermione was being jostled hell west and crooked; mostly a direct result of being of such a slight stature.

Harry wondered briefly wether it was because he unconsciously projected, _I'm really powerful, Bugger off!_ Or if it was in most everyone else's own subconscious to let him alone. It was strange. Harry was sure that those with the most skittish nature around him, were one's he suspected weren't completely Human. He knew that Non humans attended the Leaky Cauldron, and strangely, Harry could almost feel their presence. It was the same way he could tell Remus was a Werewolf. There was just something about some of the patrons that screamed out to him, "Non Human."

As it was, he could tell that there was at least three Hags in the room, four Werewolves including Remus, two Vampires (Of which he could tell were extraordinarily Old, solely due to the fact they were hear during daylight), one Enhanced Animagus (his father, as he was no longer completely human), and some others he couldn't quite discern, almost as though they could hide their signature.

"Callen! Over here!"

Harry looked around, trying to ignore the sudden influx of information, and spotted Remus waving him and Hermione over to their little secluded corner, where Severus, Jessica and Elizabeth were already seated; Elizabeth's First Year supplies sitting next to her.

"Where did you wander off to, Callen?" Severus asked rather gruffly, motioning for the two of them to take a seat. Harry obeyed, taking the seat next to Elizabeth at the end of the table. He smiled nervously down at her, then looked back up just as Hermione sat next to Remus, opposite himself. Jessica was right in the corner, while Sev was sitting by Elizabeth, opposite Jess. "Last I knew, you two were going to Madame Malkin's, but after that you decided to vanish?"

"We were finishing up some business at Gringott's," Harry answered, trying not to make his father any more irate than he already was. "After we'd finished getting everything else we needed on our lists, that is. I was kind of wanting to go into Muggle London and get a replacement wardrobe – "

"Why would you want to do that?" Severus shot him a most suspicious look, one that Harry didn't appreciate in the slightest. "You could just Transfigure your clothing, just like the ones you're wearing?"

Harry drew his eyebrows together, feeling a mild annoyance toward his father, but didn't quite know why. "Because I want to have some clothing of my own, Severus," he retorted calmly.

"Sorry to interrupt," Remus spoke up a touch timidly, "but could you possibly have this conversation some other time? I believe there was a different reason for this gathering today…?"

Harry looked down at the table, inwardly fuming at Severus's attempt to put the parental foot down, while the Slytherin in question nodded curtly at Remus, agreeing reluctantly, and redirecting his attention to Jessica, who had watched the little exchange silently.

"How about some introductions first?" Remus suggested into the uncomfortable silence that had descended onto the table. "Jessica and Elizabeth," he pointed out the specified individual, "this is Hermione Granger," Hermione smiled in greeting, "and Callen Sn– "

"– Emrys!" Severus cut in sharply, glaring at Remus pointedly. "His name is Callen Emrys, Remus … remember?"

Remus looked a little puzzled and shot a look at Harry, who was staring at the table seemingly oblivious to the conversation, before turning back to Snape, nodding, "Of course. My mistake."

Harry though, had tuned out everything that was spoken, as soon as his father had stopped Remus from introducing him as a Snape. Was there something Severus didn't want this lady to know? Or was it that he was starting to have second thoughts about taking him as his son? Harry didn't understand and was feeling a little despondent, wondering if he'd done anything wrong to upset him. Surely a little wandering around Diagon Alley wouldn't equate for such reaction? And what was wrong with venturing into Muggle London? Severus of all people should understand the desire Harry had for belongings of his own…

Harry shook his head, trying to pay attention to what Jessica was now saying, while simultaneously ignoring the stimuli invading his mind from the other patrons of the Pub. On top of that, Harry was endeavouring to remove the negative feelings he was feeling in relation to his father … but those one's were much harder to ignore. He could hear a jumble of words mixed with flashes of colour in his peripheral vision, each with its own information buried within it. It was giving him a headache, and Hermione was staring at him, obviously noticing that something was off.

The air was stifling, the temperature seemed much higher than what it was when he arrived. Harry felt his breathing reflexively quicken in panic. Everything was smothering! He saw Hermione say something, but the rushing in his ears drowned out all sounds. Harry knew it was purely subconscious, but his brain demanded air. To get out into the open. He was boxed in! He couldn't move!

__

"Worthless Freak! I'll teach you to burn my breakfast!"

Pain and grogginess followed immediately, before he was clouded in blackness, unable to move in the smothering, small closet.

A myriad of colour flashed in Harry's eyes, interrupting the images from his past only for an instant, before he felt something wrap around him…

__

He knelt on the ground, blinking a stickiness from his eyes, but a stocky arm wrapped around his middle from behind, lifting him roughly, before hurling him backwards, slamming him into the steel behind him.

"You murdering scum! I don't know why I even bother keeping you in this house! Who'd want anything to do with you?! Everyone you get anywhere near ends up dieing! First it was your worthless parents, then one of your school pals … now, not even your precious Godfather_ will have anything to do with you! Oh, that's right … he can't … you got him killed … _Freak_ …"_

An insane panic consumed Harry's mind, desperately to break free of the iron arms holding him down. With a strangled cry, Harry lashed out blindly, feeling his elbow collide with something solid, a pain filled grunt answered, followed by the restriction around his middle slackening, allowing Harry to break free and do what his instincts were screaming at him to do, especially when oneself felt in peril.

__

Run.

***

"Remus what the hell just happened?!"

Hermione felt fit to be tied, ignoring the incredulous glares being shot at her from the nosier members of the pub, and the alarmed faces of Jessica and Elizabeth, who were both staring where Harry and Severus had been seated not ten seconds ago.

Hermione could see that something was bothering Harry before he'd started to behave like a trapped creature, and she had an inkling as to what it was, but at present, she was only concerned for her friend.

Remus was apparently as bewildered as she was, for he shook his head in dismay.

"I haven't the faintest idea, Hermione," he answered, the concern he was also feeling showing in his hazel eyes. "I've never seen Harry act like that before…"

"He was scared," a tiny, yet firm voice spoke up.

Hermione and Remus turned towards the source, and saw little Elizabeth staring evenly back at them.

"Of what?" Remus asked softly, though appearing sincere. "How do you know?"

"Lizzy, not here," Jessica spoke sharply, cutting her daughter off before she could answer. Hermione glared at the older woman, silently demanding that she shut up and let Liz speak … but then she saw that Jessica was looking at the other patrons, obviously fearful that anyone should overhear what the girl wished to say.

Hermione bristled, and for once, she felt selfish in that she didn't care about what this woman was scared of. She wanted to know what had happened to Harry!

"Bullocks!" she hissed, leaning towards a surprised Jessica. "It's as simple as putting up a damn silencing charm! I want to know what happened with my friend!"

"Hermione, calm down," said Remus, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "If she doesn't want to say here, then we can't force her." Remus steered her to sit in the seat Harry had occupied earlier. "Callen will be fine. Severus will take care of him…"

***

Severus half ran in the direction he'd seen Harry run off in, after picking himself up off the ground and regain his equilibrium. He might have been given inhuman hardiness and strength, but even that glancing blow from Harry had been enough for him to see stars, letting the boy get free of his arms after apperating them both from the Leaky Cauldron, to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

He remembered that, not long after Jessica had started to tell him where she'd been for the last twelve years, Harry had started to behave very erratically. At first he seemed upset about something, but then he saw the boy grow skittish, even fearful of his surroundings. Severus had only ever seen similar behaviour a few times before in humans … none of which he wanted to bring to mind again.

It had been during Voldemort's last reign of terror, and He would capture Muggles, cage them, and use them for the groups entertainment. Severus had tried for years to forget the looks in the Muggles eyes, as they were displayed to the Death Eaters … but it had been brought to the surface again, as the same fear of a caged animal was clearly visible in the emerald eyes of his son.

But what had brought it on? The dining area of the Leaky Cauldron was reasonably open, yet Cal had behaved like someone that had Claustrophobia? Did he suffer from it, but not tell anyone? And if he was, what had been the cause behind it? Surely the week he'd spent in the Dursley's back shed hadn't been the reason, had it?

Whatever the cause, Severus knew it had started at that Muggle home of his, and the rage he felt towards them spurred him to run even faster after his son. Looking ahead, Sev felt his chest constrict as he saw Harry disappear into the trees of the Forbidden Forest, at least one hundred meters ahead of him. _Merlin that boy can run!_

Even with his magical stamina, Severus could feel the effects of running so long at full tilt. His legs were burning with the effort and his lungs felt as they were on fire … something Harry didn't have to worry about, as he didn't even need to breathe. That boy could run at that speed forever if he needed to.

Breaking through the tree line, Severus ran as fast as he was able, dodging and weaving through the underbrush haphazardly. His eyes darted around him, trying to find any sign as to which direction Harry had fled in … but the gloom of the Forest was too dense, and obviously, Harry – whether out of instinct or intent – was already able to move without a trace; not one twig was out of place, nor a branch swaying. Severus slowed his gait, realizing that he would never find his son under the current circumstances and method. He stilled his legs, feeling the unpractised muscles quake from the exertion, his chest heaving as his lungs screamed for oxygen.

The Forest was silent, save for Sev's laboured breathing, and the rustling of leaves at his feet as he moved around, preventing his legs from cramping up. What was he going to do now? Would he go back to the Leaky Cauldron to tell the rest of his party about Harry's situation? Or should he inform Dumbledore of the problem and leave the important decisions up to him? Though, even as these options made themselves present, there was an underlying desire to just turn back around and _keep_ running after his son, no matter what. This confused Severus quite soundly, as he leant against a tree, his head tilted back against the trunk. Why would he continue to pursue someone that would have no problem looking after himself, even in his disillusioned state of mind?

"_Because you're worried about him_," a small voice in the back of Sev's mind spoke up. "_He's your son, and even though you don't show it, you care about what happens to him … past, present and future._"

Severus let out a chuckle, though it was devoid of any humour. "I can't believe I wouldn't've thought twice about that boy not two weeks ago…" He shook his head and rubbed his eyes tiredly, saying self patronizingly, "What the hell is happening with me…?"

Going against his deeper urges, Severus managed to turn himself away from his sons heading, and sprint back toward the Castle, knowing that Dumbledore would most likely know how to handle the problem…

****

A pair of brilliant green eyes, now calm, yet swirling with sadness, followed the Slytherins departure, until he vanished into the Forests gloom. As soon as Harry heard his father question his mental condition in reference to him, he'd felt something inside him break. First Ron abandons him, and now, his own _father_ was having second thoughts about taking him as his son. Would everyone desert him in the end, even if they seemed to accept what he was for now?

__

Who said they accept you now? Maybe they've just been taking pity on you and pretend _to like you?_

Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind. He hated that voice. It continuously spouted degrading and doubtful comments about his life, always second guessing any kind gesture or any affection. After all, there had to be some other reason behind people being nice to someone like him, wouldn't there? 

It was at times like these that Harry loathed his Uncle the most. He knew, in some part of his mind, that what Vernon had ground into him about his worthlessness wasn't true … but after so many years of his verbal slurs, it was almost impossible for him to believe otherwise. It was worse now than it ever had been, as now he had the physical marks of _not_ agreeing with the lug. Ever since he could remember, he'd always been told what a burden he was, how no one would want him, how he would never amount to anything, how he was a _freak_. Turned out that Vernon was right all along, didn't it. He was a freak, even in the Wizarding world; no one wanted him around, fearing his connection with Voldemort; and his only achievements in his life were getting a madman after his head, and killing off everyone that got anywhere near him.

Harry bit his lip, shaking his head violently in order to clear it.

__

Some glamorous life for the Rich and Famous…


	26. An Honest Mistake

Hey there everybody!! I can't remember the exact date of my last update, so if it was late, I'm sorry, but if it was early, lucky you!

To whoever asked about making the chapters longer: Sorry. This size of chapter seems to be the easiest for me to achieve, so that's the way it's gonna stay.

Not much action in this chapter guys, but there is a nice amount of angst (my favourite category), so, if it appeals, you should like this one. I tried to make this chapter a little different in the way it's presented, but I don't know if it worked. Please tell me if you like, or if I should just do what I always do. Maybe you like the little variety I have in the way the chapters are told.

DON'T BE AFRAID TO TELL ME!!

Anyway, here's your new chapter. Hope you enjoy!

****

Chapter Twenty Six: An Honest Mistake

Night had fallen, slowly enveloping the surrounding land in a smothering darkness. A candle flickered. It was the only movement in the small office situated in a tall tower, currently holding four worried and anxious companions.

Albus Dumbledore stood at his window, staring down at the Forbidden Forest, just able to see the treetops in the pale moonlight. To say he was worried was an understatement, but it was nothing compared to how the tall and brooding figure sitting in the corner was feeling. Albus sighed lightly and turned around, sitting in his chair, and surveying the persons before him. All of them were near despondent.

Remus sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, his head in his hands, fingers wound through his greying hair. Minerva McGonagall sat in the chair beside him, uncharacteristically sombre, sitting stoically, staring blankly ahead. Hermione wasn't in the room with them, for the stifling atmosphere had become overwhelming for her, therefore she had announced her retreat to Harry's room, in case he happened along. Slowly, the Headmasters eyes drifted to the back corner, where the torchlight was dimmest, and the last lone figure was still as a statue.

Severus had burst into his office rather early that morning, not long after the group had left for Diagon Alley. He could remember only one other time that he'd seen the man in such a state of unkemptness. It had been after a Deatheater meeting, and he'd discovered Voldemort's plans to hunt down the Potter's. Severus himself didn't know the full reasoning behind the hunt at the time … but Albus had known. He remembered when Lily had told him about her son's condition. She'd been adamant in making sure he believed that she loved her son, no matter who his father was, nor how he was conceived. Even then, Albus remembered the strange ring she always wore, but until recently, he never knew why she would wear an obviously pureblood heirloom.

The way his potions master had barrelled into his office reminded him of that fateful morn, and strangely both accounts were due to one Harry Potter. Albus had patiently listened to Severus's account of that morning, deducing that a mix of a new power awakening, and Harry's unstable emotional state at present, had spurred this behaviour. 

Shortly after Severus arrived; Remus and Hermione had shown up, both inquiring hastily as to Harry's condition. Both were even more worried when told that Harry had yet to show himself, but Albus had told them all to sit. All they could do was wait, and hope that nothing happened to the boy until he calmed down. Severus had been continuously spouting that it shouldn't have taken this long, but Remus had cut the Slytherin off, accusing him of Harry's disappearance because of the way he'd treated him all morning. 

Privately, Albus agreed, but he wasn't going to reprimand Severus about it. He was only just getting used to the fact that he was a father, and the knowledge on how to treat your offspring didn't just manifest overnight. As it was, the progress he'd made with Harry had been quite reassuring … despite the odd wrench in the works every now and then.

Minerva had shown up not long after the small row, after making her morning rounds, and heard the last of Remus's argument. Now Albus held a visual reference as to why the Head of Gryffindors classes were only behind Severus in obedience. Merlin that woman had a temper! Though, it was a sharp contrast to the Witch in front of him at present.

"Albus, you'll never believe who we saw in Diagon Alley," said Remus, breaking the stony silence that had settled upon them all. Albus looked at the werewolf questioningly, but a sharp voice cut off the rest of his sentence.

"Hold your tongue, Lupin!" Severus snapped, his normally cold voice, somewhat heavy with emotion. He didn't move from his stony vigil in the dark corner. "Who we met is of little importance in comparison to the here and now."

Remus spun around so fast, Albus thought he'd break something.

"I would think that finding someone who vanished from existence over a decade ago, would count as important! Not to mention the fact that she came back with something you saddled her with, without your knowledge…"

"Shut your trap!"

"No, I won't!" Remus swivelled back towards Albus (who had watched the exchange with interest) and added, "Albus, we saw Jessica there, and she had a – _errk_!"

Albus started violently when Severus darted forward, fast as lightning, and grasped the werewolf by his neck, heaving him up and out of the chair effortlessly, before tossing him to the other side of the office, landing heavily and slamming into the shelving behind him.

"Severus!" Albus snapped, his eyes hardening when the Slytherin turned to glare at him. Minerva had let off a small cry at the action, and raced over to the werewolf, giving him a small check over with her wand. Remus groaned lightly as he tried to sit up, but Minerva gently pushed him back down. Albus heard her telling him he'd been given a small concussion, and when he looked over, he could see a trail of blood originating from near the temple.

"I feel like I've been hit by a freight train," Remus mumbled, his words slightly slurred.

"It makes me wonder how you would know what that feels like," Minerva stated, trying to stay relatively calm, despite what she'd just seen. "Lay still, Remus. I'm taking you down to Poppy for a better looking at…"

Remus nodded blankly, and Minerva conjured a stretcher underneath him. Albus watched her steer the werewolf out of his office, and didn't miss the glare she threw at Severus before shutting the door behind her. He found himself agreeing with her.

Severus, for his part, was still breathing a little heavily, but seemed to have calmed down a little from his outburst.

"Severus, that was completely uncalled for," he scolded. "I have told you countless times to not use your abilities in such a manner! Remus didn't even know about them! I know you're worried about Harry, but that is no reason to take it out on your colleagues!"

"He was giving information that wasn't his to give!" Severus snarled angrily, thumping a fist on the armrest. "And I'm not worried, what would I be worried for?"

Albus gazed at the potions master, seeing the carefully hidden concern and anxiousness in his black eyes. He tried so hard to seem as cold as ice, and in the line of work he was in, it was required … but Severus was still human, and as such, capable of the emotions that lived in them.

"Remus mentioned Jessica," said Albus, knowing that the subject about Severus's worry for Harry was closed. Snape looked up at him sharply in warning, but Albus ignored it. "This wouldn't be the same Jessica that vanished around eleven, twelve years ago, would it?" Severus's brooding was all the answer Albus required. "I wonder what name she uses these days? Snape is much too out of place for Muggles, yet too noticeable in the Wizarding world. Her maiden name would have been fine with the Muggles, but a Wizard would know her in a heartbeat…"

"We didn't get that far, Albus," said Severus quietly. "Harry had started his episode just as she started talking…"

"Hmm," Albus scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Now, I heard Remus saying something about leaving dear Jess with something, but he was rather rudely interrupted…" he trailed off, staring over his half moon glasses rather sternly.

Severus sighed heavily and rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "It wasn't his to tell, Albus. However as your curiosity has been spurred, I know there is no use in hiding it from you."

Albus waited patiently…

"Jessica has a daughter, Albus." The headmaster's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Her name is Elizabeth. She's one of this years First Years…"

The dejectedness in Severus's tone startled Albus quite profoundly. He was looking at his lap, not into his eyes, as he normally would have done. "Severus, is there something bothering you?"

Snape just shook his head tiredly. "I can't do this, Albus," he whispered, all previous fire in his voice and eyes diminished. "I've already made so many mistakes with Harry … who's to say I won't do the same to my daughter?"

***

Night had long fallen. The sky was now filled with mutinous looking clouds that had already fulfilled their promise of a storm. A biting gust of wind blew, throwing the long hair of a boy over his face, as he sat atop one of the large stone boars, flanking the main gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

His thin skivvy and denim jeans had long ago soaked though, leaving the material clinging to the powerful body underneath. Emerald eyes stared up at the ancient castle, seeing only a few pinpricks of light scattered throughout, telling that most all of the occupants were asleep. Briefly, he wondered if his father was included amongst them. He doubted it though. That man was even more of an insomniac than himself, and he knew that he'd be wandering the halls until his exhaustion set in.

Drawing his legs to his chest, he leant his chin against them, feeling a curiousness that was unknown to him, as he pondered if his father was worried about him. The man had every reason not to be … after all … he'd struck him that day, and he knew from experience that most resented or hated anyone that hit them.

His thoughts drifted towards his only friend left. Was she worried about him, after disappearing the way he did, not returning at all. No doubt all sorts of things had been running through her incredible mind, and he was sure that none would be a happy ending. He reached up and touched the tiny pendant she'd given him for his birthday, feeling a swell of warmth engulf him as he did so. Although the necklace had no real significant use, it spoke wonders about just how close the two of them were. Sure Ron had chipped in for a new watch … but the necklace had so much more emotional importance.

He sighed, shaking his head, feeling the droplets of water beating down on him splash against his skin, as he raised his face skyward. It could be so easy, to just shift into someone completely unknown, and flee the wizarding world, where he would be turned upon should his true identity and Race become known … but, could he do that to the few that appeared to give a damn. Sure, they could be taking pity on him, and just tolerate his presence … but where Hermione was concerned, he felt with his very core, that she did care … at least a little.

He wouldn't abandon her like that. He knew how it felt, and would never do that to another if he could help it.

Smiling softly, he leapt from the statue, landing with utmost grace and fluidity, before shaking his sopping hair out of his eyes, and trudging back up the pathway, toward the castle. To save the walk, he could Paft … but he didn't. Instead he savoured the feel of the fresh water running over him, washing away the day's transgressions, leaving a clean slate for the happenings of tomorrow.

He reached the main entrance and walked slowly up the stairs, pausing for a moment at the top before pushing a door open just far enough to slip inside. The entrance hall was dark, with only a few torch brackets being alight. It was eerily silent, until he closed the door gently. Even then, a loud click was heard as the latch locked into place, echoing lightly around the deserted corridors.

His footsteps were near nonexistent, as he calmly strode towards his room, keeping his senses alert for anything unusual as he went. The lightning flashed through the windows, illuminating the halls for brief moments before darkness prevailed once more; the normal silence broken with the rolling of thunder.

He turned down his corridor, noticing something strange in his senses as he did. Hermione's magical signature wasn't in her room. He frowned, wondering where on earth she could be, when he was surprised as he discovered her essence in _his_ room.

Hesitantly, he opened the door, switching his eyes to black, and watching the world turn white. It was easier to see like this at night, he'd discovered, and sure enough, in the black room, he could make out Hermione lying curled up on his bed, still fully clothed and on top of the covers, as though she'd been waiting for him to come back. He strode over to her, treading lightly, and squatted down by her side, watching as she slept restlessly. Her face was etched with worry, even in her deepest sleep, and he could see her gripping the covers near her head tightly. He switched his eyes again, now seeing a myriad of colour drifting absently in the small room, and a dormant aura encompassing Hermione's form. He could tell that her dreams weren't peaceful, and he knew he was the cause behind it.

He sighed quietly, swivelling his eyes downward in self reproach, not noticing the glow his eyes gave off, dimly light the floor. He looked back at Hermione, forgetting that he was still soaking wet, and lifted a hand to her face, gently brushing her wild hair back, and grazing his fingers over her cheek as he did so.

Unbeknownst to him, after being out in the freezing weather for so long, his hands were like blocks of ice, and the small contact made Hermione start awake. Her eyes flew open as she shrank from the cold touch, but then he saw her look squarely into his eyes.

She screamed.

He jumped backwards, surprised by her reaction, not registering her flying from his bed and draw her wand from her pocket, pointing it straight at him.

"Herm – !"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. As he'd been in Hogwarts, he'd decided to let a good amount of his guards fall, letting a subconscious part of his mind have a break from holding all his defences up. One of which, was his ability to absorb and deflect incoming spells…

__

"Reducto!"

Pain lanced through his chest, blowing him off his feet, sending him crashing into the bedside cabinet, splintering it with an almighty crash, his head slammed against the stone wall, and a darkness deeper than the rooms, enfolded his mind…

***

Hermione, as soon as she heard whatever creature slam into the wall, turned about and sprinted from the room, only just navigating in the dim corridors. After waiting for Harry to return to his room, the last thing Hermione had expected to see upon a sudden waking, was a set of glowing eyes. It had frightened the be geezers out of her, and thanks to the DA the previous term, her first reaction had been to subdue the threat.

Deciding that the headmaster would be the best choice at the moment, Hermione immediately set off in that direction, running as fast as she could go. No sooner she rounded the first corner however, she slammed into something she couldn't see due to the darkness, and went spinning to the ground.

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear it, hearing a strange popping noise as she did so, before attempting to regain her equilibrium and get to her feet. A sudden grip enclosed around her elbow, making her gasp in surprise, and a little fear, thinking that whatever had been in Harry's room may have escaped. She instinctively tried to pull away, but a smooth voice set her fears to rest.

"Do calm down, Miss Granger," Snape's voice instructed, helping Hermione to stand and remain so. "And what on earth are you doing up, running around at three in the morning?"

"Oh, Professor, thank god I ran into you!" Hermione gasped out, the spurt of adrenalin she'd received from her fright beginning to wear off, making her feel lethargic. "Something's in Harry's room! I fell asleep there waiting for him, just in case, but something woke me and I knocked it out. I don't know what it was, it was so dark I could barely see at all, but I sent a Reductor Curse at it and it didn't get up." They were heading back to Harry's room swiftly, and Hermione continued to speak. "I was going for the headmaster, but then I must've run into you…"

"Indeed, you did, Miss Granger," Snape answered, turning the corner into Harry's corridor. He picked up his pace, wanting to know what this creature could be, or even if it had been sent _for_ Harry. But if that was the case, how would it know to come to Hogwarts? Almost no one knew he was there?

Snape stopped Hermione behind him, and drew his wand before venturing around Harry's doorjamb. He snuck an eye around the corner, seeing only a dark room, and not hearing any movement. There wasn't even a breath to be heard.

"Miss Granger, are you sure you only knocked it out? I don't hear anything breathing?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I _killed it_?" she squeaked, looking mortified.

Snape shook his head. "Not necessarily. You said you used a Reductor Curse on it … how strong was it, do you remember?"

"Um," Hermione's face scrunched up in recollection. "Well, I wasn't really thinking much at the time, sir," she finally replied. "I was a little frightened at the time, so I think it was rather strong…"

"Very well," said Snape, nodding his acquiesce, before stepping cautiously around the door frame. He stepped carefully, trying to see in the dim light, and managed to make out some kind of figure next to the bed. Severus noticed the cabinet was in splinters, and reasoned that the curse Hermione had used had been rather powerful, especially to throw something that big into the wall.

"Can't see a damn thing," he muttered, squinting to try and make out what the creature was. He could see it was a human type shape, but he couldn't make out anything specific. "_Incendio_," he muttered, aiming his wand towards the torch brackets on the walls. The room flooded with light, making Severus squint with the sudden brightness.

A sharp cry from Hermione made him swivel around, only to see her dash past him and throw herself beside whatever was lying in the splintered wood. It took a moment for Severus to realize she was in tears, and for a moment he wondered why. However, as soon as his eyes landed on the face of the body, he felt his face drain of colour, and nausea rise up in his throat, for sitting in the middle of Harry's chest, was a hole the size of a grapefruit…

And by the look of it … it wasn't healing on it's own.


	27. An Unwelcome Guest

Hey guy's! This chapter was a bit faster than the last one, though it is a touch smaller. I tried to make it longer, but this just seemed to make a good stopping point, so please, don't yell at me …

Don't forget to review please!!

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Chapter Twenty Seven: An Unwelcome Guest

Severus paced back and forth, for once not caring that others saw his anxiety. He was currently outside the curtains that Poppy had pulled around Harry's bed as she examined him. Remus had seen him and Hermione bring Harry in, for he'd woken by the doors banging open, followed by Severus's yelling as he lay Harry on a bed.

Hermione had been near hysterical; she'd been the one to throw the curse after all, so Severus had told her to go and fetch Dumbledore.

Now, they were gathered in the ward, waiting with baited breath for Poppy to finish her inspection.

A light sniffle brought Severus's attention back to Hermione. She was sitting in a chair right outside Harry's curtains; shoulders slumped, her head in her hands. She was the most distraught over this, and he could sympathize with it. He hesitantly took a step towards her, but stopped, not really wanting her to see so much of what was under his mask …. He looked at Dumbledore, and sighed when a small nod was directed at the shattered girl. He turned back to her and stepped up to her side, taking a moment to judge her mental state.

She was curled up on the chair, staring blankly ahead at the white barrier. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and even as he watched, more tears spilled from her eyes. She looked up at him suddenly, startling him, then turned away from him physically, as though she didn't want him to see her in such a state.

He knew how she felt, but he understood the need for her to know he didn't begrudge her of her actions earlier. It showed great promise to react so quickly against an unknown enemy … the circumstances of that show could have been better however. It was just bad luck, the way things had turned out, and he wouldn't have her beating herself up over something that couldn't have been prevented. If anything, it could have only been worse.

"Miss Granger," he said quietly, hesitantly placing a hand on her shoulder. He felt her tense under his hand, but she didn't shrug him off. "I know you feel badly about what happened, but it was unpreventable. You said yourself that you couldn't see anything other than a set of glowing eyes…"

"But I should've know it was him!" Hermione wailed, cutting his sentence off. She slapped a hand on her leg in frustration, and turned her face up to meet his gaze. "I _knew_ that Harry's eyes glowed when he wanted them to! I saw them yesterday! I should have _known_!"

"But you didn't, and reacted accordingly," said Severus, kneeling to her level. He was taken aback at the self-recrimination in the girls eyes, yet touched that she cared enough about his son in order to feel such emotion at her action. "It was not your fault, Miss Granger. Bad luck had a part to play as well…"

She shook her head, "But I could have _killed_ him!" her voice was a strangled whisper, her hands twisting in her lap. "I know he's not dead, but if he was a human he _would_ have been!"

"But he's not, and that's all that matters," Severus replied, surprising himself at the softness of his voice. "We already know that Harry will eventually heal, so the only things to come of this is learning. You now know to attempt to I.D. a threat before subdual, and the first thing I'm going to do when Harry wakes up, is question him on how exactly your spell was able to effect him. He will then know to not do it again."

Hermione eyed him, almost in a scrutinizing manner, then asked, "Professor, if I'm not being too blunt, but, if you know that Harry will be perfectly okay, why are you so worried about him? You're just as anxious to see him up and about as I am?"

Severus took a moment to study her expression, and saw honest curiosity mingled with a slight scepticism over his emotions. He didn't blame her. He'd always been so cruel towards Harry, and it seemed as though his … _kinder_ treatment over the past few days had not completely alleviated that image. Though … after seeing his own visage in such a condition, rather than the face of his enemy, seemed to bring out feelings he'd never felt before.

"Do you believe me heartless, Miss Granger?" he asked, keeping his voice strangely placid and unthreatening. "After these past few days with Harry, seeing the way I treat him, do you really believe that I wouldn't come to care, in some way or another? Is it so hard to believe I have feelings?"

"A few days of tolerance doesn't erase five years of ridicule and embarrassment, Professor…" Hermione retorted, her bloodshot eyes hardening at the potions master. "You made his life a walking nightmare, and you expect me to forget about it because of a couple of days? Harry probably only lets you get away with it, because he's never _had_ a father, and the only other person that could have substituted for the role, _died_ two months ago! He had to watch it! How do you think he feels about that? Not that you care Sirius was killed, after all, he was James Potter's partner in crime … no reason to give a damn there at all…"

"How I felt about Black and Potter have no bearing on my feelings for Harry any longer – "

"It shouldn't have in the first place!" Hermione shouted, her eyes wild. "If you'd treated him like he should have been, then this probably wouldn't have happened! You wouldn't be as awkward around each other, and you wouldn't have upset him as easily as you have been!"

Severus stood swiftly, glaring down at Hermione's fiery eyes. "I will not be spoken to in such a manner! I am your Professor, and you shall treat me as such!"

"You are not here as a Professor, _Severus_!" Hermione bit back, also rising from her seat. "You are here as Harry's father, and as such, I will treat you how you deserve to be treated!" She jabbed a finger in Severus's chest, "Like a _horrid_ one!"

With that, Hermione swivelled and stormed in the direction of the door, exclaiming, "If Harry wakes up before morning, can someone please tell him I will be visiting him then, when _someone else _is not hanging around?" Then, ignoring the three sets of surprised eyes upon her, jerked open the doors, and slammed them behind her.

"Well," said Dumbledore, a few moments later after he'd recovered from his small bout of shock. "That didn't go as I thought it would…"

"Really, what gave you _that_ idea?!" Severus snapped, crossing his arms in annoyance, and even a little shame. Imagine a student speaking to him in such a manner? And in front of the headmaster no less! "How am I going to fix this?" he asked no one in particular.

Albus shrugged, "Perseverance, my boy, is all I can recommend in this instance."

"That, and a little more effort behind understanding your son," Remus added tiredly, obviously putting the incident in the headmasters office behind him.

"How can I do that when he doesn't confide in me?"

"By gaining his trust, Severus," said Remus, sounding a bit exasperated. "You have to stop snapping at him whenever he gets on your nerves, or brushing him aside if your not in the mood to put up with him. All you will do is keep yourself in the visage of Harry's Uncle … at least through his eyes."

Severus glared at the werewolf in both annoyance and incredulity. "I would never strike him, Lupin, as I've told him before…"

"Yes, but he doesn't _believe_ you," Remus exclaimed heatedly. "He behaves as though he's treading on thin ice with you, so why not believe you'd hit him if he did something wrong? As I understand it, even _nothing_ would earn him a beating at that place!"

Severus looked at the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"You have to change the way you treat him _all the time_, Severus," Remus continued gently. "Otherwise, Harry will continue to believe – not that you won't – but that you _haven't_ hit him yet…"

***

Poppy listened to the conversation taking place outside the enclosed bed space intently, while keeping her attention on the figure stretched out beside her. At first, she hadn't recognised Harry, when Severus had brought him in about half an hour ago, but after the brief explanation he'd given her, she shooed him out and drew the curtains.

A part of her had felt acute exasperation at seeing the boy in her care yet again, but she couldn't help feeling a good amount of sympathy for him either. She sometimes wondered how on earth the boy remained so stable with all the things he'd had to put up with.

When Poppy had first started her examination, she'd been startled mindless when she detected no physical signs of life. Harry hadn't been breathing, and there wasn't even a heartbeat … yet even as she fearfully continued the scan, she'd detected that nothing was wrong with the boys brain activity. It was as though he'd been alive without the actual means to sustain that life? Needless to say, Poppy had never seen anything so strange in her life … but as it had been proven before, Harry Potter had a way of getting around that.

And so it had been since she'd finished the scan. Poppy was mildly surprised at the small amount of damage Hermione's Reductor Curse had done to the boy though. She knew the Curse was meant for inanimate objects, but when it was directed at a living being, it usually went right through them. In comparison, Harry's wound was only a mild abrasion to what it could have been on a normal human.

After cleaning up Harry's wound, and dressing him in some dry pyjamas, she left his shirt open so she could see the rather gruesome hole that now decorated his chest. It was hardly a pleasant sight, but she'd cast a charm to keep her informed of his brain activity, just so she might have prior warning if anything should go wrong. As the wound had been very serious, Poppy felt a wave of relief wash over her when, after her first scan, her second told her that the wound had begun to heal already. She knew the difference would be too small for her to see normally, but as she continued to do regular scanning over the half hour, she was reassured that the wound was knitting together at a rapid pace.

She'd become preoccupied however, when she heard the rather heated exchange between Severus and Miss Granger, concerning Harry and the way Severus treated him. She found herself agreeing with the girl quite readily … yet she'd also seen the small changes that Harry had brought out in Severus, and couldn't help but think they complemented each other perfectly. Harry had ignited something in Severus that he'd been lacking for such a long time … and at the same time, Severus was now the parental figure Harry could look up and turn to. But that would only be when they weren't so stubborn with each other.

Listening to the conversation between Severus and her other patient, Remus, Poppy sighed lightly, agreeing in regards to exactly what it was that Severus had to change about his treatment of Harry in order to get anywhere with him. At the mention of how the boy believed that it would only be a matter of when, not if, someone struck him in frustration, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The memory of Harry's condition when he'd arrived in her ward not two weeks ago still made her cringe.

At least now, she thought, he's got someone to look out for him properly. The conversation beyond the curtains seemed to have reached a stand still, and Poppy turned back to Harry to give him another scan … only to jump from her seat and let off a startled yelp when what she saw was not what was in the bed at last glace.

***

… It was so dark … so empty. There was no noise … nothing to feel, to smell…

__

… Fear … He scurried around a log in his path … A great expanse of lawn stood before him, leaving the majestic castle in full view …

… What was that? … There was something tickling the edge of his senses…

__

… 'I can't fail my Master' … Terror at the thought … The stairs came into view … 'Don't know why he wants me to keep an eye on old Snivellius for?' …

… He suspects Dad! … I need to warn him … He can't spy anymore …

__

… He squeezed through the small gap between the doors … The Entrance Hall is near pitch black … 'At least my Lord will satisfy himself with getting Potter's relatives … They should know better than to leave their protected dwelling' …

… Oh shit! The Dursley's! No no no no no … They're all I have left of Mum! …

__

… His nose picks up on the distinct scent of herbs dampness … He automatically turns toward the Dungeons … 'The scent grows weaker?' … He sniffs again … The scent heads upward? … Curiosity envelops him …

… Crap, crap, crap! He's heading up here!! …

__

… 'Wait … there is another's scent here?' … Surprise lances through him … 'Potter? Here?' … More sniffing … 'The Mudblood as well … this is interesting' …

… Oh bloody hell! Jesus, I have to wake up! How, how, how??? …

__

… 'Hmm … Ickle Ronniekins seems to have bee around … but the scent is old … he's not here now' … More scurrying … The Hospital Wing doors come into view … 'Why is Snape here? … and Dumbledore! … Ahh, my old Werewolf friend seems to be visiting also' …

… Come on body! Wake up for me! Just a little jar is all I'll need to get out of this damn healing trance!! …

__

… The double doors are shut securely … there is the gap under the doors however …

… A startled cry right by him shatters his trance, catapulting him out of the land of slumber, just as the echo in his mind started to edge under the door…

Harry's eyes snapped open, and he instantly grimaced at the pain in his chest. He ignored it, along with the commotion around him, as his father and Albus charged into the curtained off area. He could tell that he'd slipped back into his Avatarial form during his trance, but at that moment, Harry's sharp eyesight caught sight of the small movement at the base of the Wards doors.

Harry only spared the briefest glances toward the adults surrounding him, who were still startled at seeing him this way so unexpectedly, before Pafting out if sight, and reappearing (looking like Little Harry) right over the Wards doors; clearly out of Wormtail's line of sight.

He looked up momentarily, hearing the exclamations being let loose at his vanishing, and quickly directed at his father and Dumbledore, _"I'm fine, but Wormtail's at the door…"_


	28. A Confrontation

Wow, this one really came out fast, and it's longer than the last one, so hopefully it will satisfy you all. This one just seemed to pour out of me, so you HAVE to tell me if it came out any good or not. Okay?

LATER!!

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Chapter Twenty Eight: A Confrontation

Severus jerked in surprise when Poppy suddenly let out a yelp of surprise from behind the curtains. Panic prickled at his heart as he swivelled around and tore the curtains aside, only to be shocked and dumbfounded when he saw his son awake, looking somewhat dazed, and out of his human guise.

He opened his mouth – and Harry vanished in a burst of black smoke.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, glaring where Harry had sat an instant ago. He looked at Albus, who stood beside him, and started, "Where do you think he – ?"

__

"I'm fine, but Wormtail's at the door…"

Severus startled at the sudden voice in his mind, seeing the same happen to Albus, but as soon as he identified the voice as Harry's, he immediately turned to the door, and saw a rat squeezing underneath the oak.

__

"Ignore him … Mingle about … I want him…"

Severus grit his teeth, but at Albus's nod, he reluctantly turned back to Poppy, who looked very shell-shocked at what she'd just witnessed. He saw her turn to him, but he shook his head, letting her know to remain quiet about it for the moment.

Looking over at Remus, Severus could tell that Albus had already sent a silent message, for the werewolf was positively seething, fighting to keep his gaze from the door.

__

"He's here to look up Sev. Voldemort suspects him…"

'How the hell does he know this?' Severus thought absently, seeing Albus surreptitiously cast a Locating Charm on the floor, effecting them both. He could feel that Pettigrew had crept under one of the beds and was inching his way toward them. Sev's heart was pounding a mile a minute at the very thought that the Dark Lord could know about his spying for the Light, but another part of him was happy for the Rats arrival, if only for his son to get the justice he deserves, caused by the betrayal instigated on his Mother … and James.

He caught movement in his peripheral vision, near the ceiling, and chanced a glance upward. He stiffened at the sight of Harry clinging to the roof with only his feet, walking along it as though it was the ground, looking down toward them. It was eerie, to see his sons vibrantly green eyes glowing an intensely hot white. He could almost feel the rage and loathing towards the lowly rat rolling off Harry in waves.

"So, Albus," said Severus, wanting some talking in the tense silence, and something for the rat to focus on other than his surroundings. He saw Albus nod, but he wasn't looking at him at the time. He'd been looking at Harry. "Are we to have a competent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year? I assure you that, even that Umbridge woman was a touch too _modest _for even me…"

"Oh, no need to fret, Severus," said Albus, his blue eyes twinkling insufferably. "I'm quite sure that our newest addition to the staff will be quite satisfactory."

Severus quirked an eyebrow, but suddenly forced back a startled cry when, in the corner of his vision, he saw Harry fall toward the floor, only to smoothly flip his body and land, soundlessly and gracefully, near the wall behind the bed Wormtail resided.

He could tell that the Rat hadn't noticed Harry, for he continued to inch forward toward them at a slow pace.

"Really, Albus?" Severus continued with the ruse. "And does this spectacular professor have a name, or am I to wait until the Sorting before I find out?"

"Well, I sent off an Owl earlier on tonight, asking if they would like the position. I know it's short notice, but they didn't come to my attention until that time. I'm expecting the return Owl sometime today."

Severus raised an eyebrow, curiosity nagging the back of his mind, yet also knowing that Albus would tell him nothing. A flurry of motion brought his attention back to the problem at hand. Harry had squatted down behind the bed Wormtail was under, and hurled himself forward, sliding under the mattress and frame, out the other side, rolling once, then coming to rest on his feet, still squatting near the floor … but now he held a rat with a silver paw securely in his hand.

Wormtail was squealing in Harry's hand, twisting and clawing in an effort to free himself. Everyone in the room knew how futile that was. Severus was relieved to see Harry's eyes back to normal, and thankful that he'd had the intelligence to change to his old form, before Wormtail had the chance to see him. They certainly didn't need _that_ secret out yet.

"Ahh … Mr Pettigrew," Albus greeted, turning to look at the pitiful creature. "Such a pleasure to see you." He drew his wand and pointed it at the Animagus, levitating him from Harry's grasp and placing him in a cage that he motioned Severus to conjure. Sev made sure it was unbreakable, unlockable unless by him, and had it suppress the ability to transform back into himself. "Now, now, Mr Pettigrew … no need to carry on so," Albus stated cordially, watching with the rest of them as the rat circled the cage frantically, trying to find a way out, squeaking incessantly.

Quite frankly it was grating on Severus's nerves, and looking at Harry and Remus, they didn't feel much better. Poppy seemed stunned when Albus mentioned Wormtail's name, but didn't comment on it.

"Were are we going to put him, Albus?" Severus asked, grasping the handle on the top of the cage. "Or will you call up the Ministry to deal with him?"

"I do believe I shall hand him over to the Ministry, Severus," Albus answered, looking down at the rat solemnly. "We simply don't have the facilities to hold him here, nor do we have the legal right to in the first place. No, we'll take him up my office for now. I'll contact Kingsley in the morning."

Severus nodded and started to move out, only to pause as he heard Harry mutter coldly, "Not that it really matters now … I was two months too late…" Severus wanted so much to be able to give some kind of comfort to his son, but with the rat there it wasn't possible.

__

"It's okay, Sev. I understand…"

Lifting his gaze, Severus locked eyes with Harry and saw the reassurance and hesitant affection directed toward him. He nodded his thanks before heading out of the Infirmary to deposit his captive in the headmasters office.

***

Harry was sitting back on the bed, waiting patiently as Madame Pomfrey finished up another scan on him. He couldn't believe that they'd finally caught Pettigrew! Now they could clear Sirius's name … even if he wasn't alive to benefit from it anymore. Now more than ever, he wished he'd listened to Hermione's warning. She'd questioned if it had been a real vision, or just something Voldemort had wanted him to see … but he'd been _so sure_ it was real, he ignored it, leading them into the worst danger possible, and costing the life of who he'd been so adamant about saving.

The pale sunlight of sunrise filtered into the Ward, telling Harry that the night had finally passed. He guessed it was around five in the morning. Remus had fallen back asleep in the bed opposite; Harry still wondered why he was in there in the first place? The full moon wasn't for another week?

Madame Pomfrey withdrew her wand, then bent down to examine the, now almost completely healed, wound on his chest. It was still tender to the touch, and a little pink compared to the rest of his torso, but other than that, it felt fine. Harry mentally noted to never lower his defences so completely ever again, unless it was necessary for his masquerade. He would complement Hermione on her reaction time to him, however. It had been rather good for someone who'd just woken up.

"Well, you're fit as a fiddle again, Mr Potter," Poppy commented, putting her wand away and staring at him shrewdly. "You can get changed and leave whenever you wish."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," said Harry, smiling thinly and sitting up again, grabbing his freshly laundered clothes from the night before. He unfolded the skivvy first, and grinned impishly at the rather large hole sitting in the middle of the chest.

Harry knew he'd get quite the talking to from his father about what had happened with Hermione, and to tell the truth he wasn't really looking forward to it. He didn't want to see the disappointment that would surely reside in those onyx eyes … but even more unsettling to think about, was if there was anger in his eyes. He'd seen the man angry before. He'd even attacked him the previous year for looking in his Pensive. That alone, was making Harry feel increasingly nervous about the impending meeting with his father, that they'd arranged after Pettigrew was secured in Dumbledore's office.

"Mr Potter, I do believe you manage to find yourself in here so often that, we could probably dispense with the formalities. You may call me Poppy, in private."

Harry smiled at the matron warmly, "Then you can call me Harry," he answered, "or…" he shifted back into his older looking true form, gaining a foot in height and filling out nicely, a neatly trimmed and tidy beard framing his strong jaw and sharper features, "Callen, if you wish?"

Poppy stared at him in amazement, and Harry let out a light chuckle, snapping her out of her daze. "I will never get used to seeing you do things like that, Harry," she commented quietly, not missing the almost unperceivable grimace that flashed through the emerald eyes. "I apologise, that came out wrong. I just meant that … it's so different. Short of Metamorphmagi, I've never seen such a complete and fluid transformation before. It's actually quite stunning…"

Harry felt a warm blush creep up his face, embarrassed by the observation. "Thank you. Oh, and – I didn't mean to startle you, earlier on when I woke up. I still need to work on my control when I'm unconscious, so I just sort of slipped a little. I hope I didn't scare you too much…"

"Not at all, Harry," said Poppy, smiling at him. "I've never seen you like that before, other than your first transition a few days ago. I wasn't ever frightened by you, Harry. I was just startled…" Harry sighed in relief and nodded. "Now," Poppy reverted back to matron mode, "I don't want to see you in here, under my care, for at least two weeks," she smiled impulsively. "I'm tired of this visiting every few days! Understand, young man?"

Harry grinned, then brought his fingers to his forehead in a mock salute. "Yes Ma'am," he laughed, earning a light slap on the shoulder from the smiling matron, before she got up and went over to tend to Remus for the morning.

***

After fixing his shirt and getting changed, Harry swiftly exited the ward, heading straight for the headmasters office, remembering the rest of what he'd heard in Wormtail's mind that morning.

Voldemort was after the Dursley's.

Harry initially shuddered at the thought of them, but he couldn't allow Voldemort to have his way. No one else would die because of him. He wouldn't allow it … not now that he had the power to do something about it.

Arriving at the stone gargoyle, Harry realized that he didn't know the password. He stood there for a moment, trying to think of sweets he hadn't mentioned in the past, when suddenly the gargoyle stepped aside, leaving Harry face to face with Cornelius Fudge: The Minister of Magic.

"Callen?" Dumbledore's voice made Harry jump, removing his gaze from the surprised Minister, to where the headmaster was descending the rotating staircase behind him. "What a surprise? Feeling up and at-em already?" Harry nodded blankly, then stepped backwards hastily, allowing the two men to step out of the small alcove.

"You look very familiar, mister," Fudge butted in rather abruptly, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "Have we met?"

Harry haltingly shook his head. "Um … No Sir, I don't believe we have."

Dumbledore stepped forward, setting himself between the two. "Cornelius, this is Callen Emrys; Severus's new potions apprentice. Callen, this is Cornelius Fudge; Minister of Magic."

Harry stuck out his hand after throwing Dumbledore an amused glance at his cover story, and smiled politely. "Pleasure to meet you, Sir."

Fudge slowly reached out and grasped his hand, still seeming suspicious. "Likewise." He quickly let go, but as Harry saw him flinch just before he did so, he realised it was because he'd gripped his hand too firmly. _Oops…_

The next moment, Harry saw yet another body moving down the staircase behind them, and immediately felt himself stiffen when he saw who it was.

"I've just gotten off the Floo to Shackbolt, Minister. He'll be right over with a contingent of Aurors to escort – Oh! Who're you?"

Percy Weasley was looking over him with mild interest, scowling at the Muggle style of clothing Harry opted to wear most of the time. He had a stack of folders and parchment in his arms, yet somehow managed to hold himself with a haughtiness Harry had never seen.

"Snape's new apprentice apparently, Weasley," Fudge replied dismissively, trying to look down his nose at Harry with difficulty, as he towered over the podgy Minister. "No one important."

Percy sniffed, attempting the same feat that Fudge was having such difficulty with, gaining no better results. "Another Deatheater in training then, is it? You certainly do seem to – "

In a flash, parchment flew everywhere as Harry lunged forward and grasped Percy firmly by his collar, slamming him (with utmost care of course) into the stonework behind him, holding him steadfast, glaring at him in rage though careful to keep his eyes from flashing.

"Callen!" Dumbledore's sharp tone was enough of a warning to Harry to not harm Percy, but that didn't mean he couldn't play a little.

"Don't you ever call me, nor Severus, a Deatheater again, you bigot!"

Percy shot him a cold smirk, even though he was trying to pry Harry's hands from his front. "My, my … you certainly jumped to his defence quite quickly, didn't you? Makes me wonder if he's a bit more than a Mentor to y – _errk!_"

Harry scowled heavily as he shifted his grip, pressing his forearm into Percy's throat, not completely cutting off his air flow, but enough to shut him up.

"Callen, that will do," Dumbledore ordered sternly. Harry turned to glare at him reproachfully, but was a little surprised when he saw that he was staring at Percy when he spoke. "And Mr Weasley … that was most uncalled for…" He glanced at Harry and gestured for him to let him go, which Harry did reluctantly, stepping back a step to let the redhead compose himself. "Now, I believe you were looking for Mr Potter, Cornelius? He should be at breakfast by now, so, if you would follow me…"

"But – what about – You can't just let that loose cannon get away with roughhousing a member of the Ministry, Albus??!!" Fudge spluttered, while Percy waved his wand and gathered all of his files up again, quickly darting after them and throwing a scathing glance at Harry.

"Cornelius, I am not getting in between an argument based on defending one's own honour and that of his Mentor. The both of them are adults and can sort it out themselves, but under no circumstance will I allow physical violence in my school…"

Harry grinned as he watched the small group head around the corner. _Nothing was mentioned about anything of a _magical _nature though…_

Remembering that Dumbledore had just said they'd be heading to meet with him at breakfast, Harry decided to at least change his clothes. The next moment, Harry found himself in his room, the black smoke from his Paft quickly disappearing. He went to his trunk and pulled out a green tee shirt and black jeans, and turned to throw them on his bed so he could change, only to jump back a step when he saw Hermione once again curled up on his bed, sleeping soundly.

Remembering the last time he'd accidentally awoken the girl, Harry opted to change in his bathroom, making sure all of his shields were in place just in case. After changing and washing up a bit, Harry glanced at himself in the mirror and changed back into "Harry Potter", replacing the scar on his forehead and conjuring a set of glasses with plain glass in the lens. Satisfied with the way he looked, Harry exited the bathroom and into his bedroom. Hermione was still asleep, but she'd shifted position, now laying stretched out and on her back.

Harry took a moment to really look at her for the first time since she arrived two days ago. As Hermione was the oldest of the three of them, Harry knew that she was coming up to seventeen this year. September nineteenth, he believed. Looking down at her now, Harry could see that she was a far cry from the bushy-haired little know-it-all from his first year. The most noticeable feature was that her wild hair had tamed considerably over the years, so now it was just rather wavy. The baby fat they'd all had when they first met had long ago disappeared, but only now did Harry notice what fine features Hermione possessed.

Her face, though not stunningly beautiful, was anything but ugly, and showed off her high cheek bones and smooth jaw line. Her form had grown perfectly, having all the right curves, and still having some meat on her bones, while retaining a lithe looking quality.

She stirred slightly, making Harry jump, then look away guiltily. He couldn't believe he'd been checking out Hermione, of all people! What was the matter with him?! Shaking his head, Harry reasoned that Dumbledore and the Minister had probably reached the Great Hall by this time, and had better get a move on.

Reaching out his senses, Harry could feel the occupants of the Great Hall, counting five people at the head table. One was definitely his father, strangely there after having only a couple of hours sleep. The other was most certainly McGonagall, and the other three were Dumbledore, Percy and Fudge. Nodding to himself, Harry took one more glance at Hermione, then Pafted into the vacant Entrance Hall.

"God I love doing that," he whispered to himself, grinning indulgently, then turning to walk into the Great Hall. Fudge looked up at him almost immediately, as did Percy. He strode casually down the aisle, looking around the Hall lazily, and knowing he was grating the Ministers nerves by taking his time. He grinned visibly, but didn't let on what the smirk was for. He knew it irritated most people even more to do it. _I wonder how Percy reacted when he saw Sev, especially after being manhandled by his "Apprentice"? Probably why he's scowling at me again … not the _that's_ a strange occurrence…_

"Good morning, Harry," said Dumbledore, as Harry sat between his father and McGonagall. "Sleep well?"

Harry spooned himself some porridge and nodded, playing along. "Yes thank you, Sir. Very well."

"As you would have seen, Harry, when you arrived; the Minister has graciously decided to join us for breakfast, after having seen Peter Pettigrew with his own eyes, this morning. He's going to be taken by a group of Aurors a little later on."

Harry sat back in his chair, before turning to face Fudge on the other side of Dumbledore. "Well, that's very nice to know," he said, letting the bitterness for the subject lace his voice heavily, "but you took two years too long to believe me, Mr Fudge – "

"Don't you speak to the Minister like that, Potter!" Percy snapped, leaning back to face Harry, scowling down toward him. "I tell you, no respect at all – !"

"I show respect where it's deserved, Percy," Harry growled out, standing from his chair to look over the teachers heads, "and I can tell you right now, that _that_ pompous _ass _(he pointed at a fuming Fudge) has _no right _to be a member of this community, much less it's Head of Government!"

Percy sneered at Harry, and he felt a strange satisfaction at aggravating the odd Weasley out … well, along with Ron now…. This Weasley did more than just turn on him … he turned on his family as well, in favour of the Ministry's propaganda.

"Why you – such disrespect for a Senior Member! It's unheard of! Thank Merlin Ron finally saw sense where you were concerned – !"

"SKREW YOU!!!"

"POTTER!!"

Harry instantly cringed at Snape's angry tone, bellowing over his own voice as it echoed around the vast hallway. He spun around, locking on to his father's bristling eyes, and felt himself shrink upon himself._ Oohh, he's so mad at me! He's gonna belt me, I know he will … He'll never let me get away with something like that!_

Snape stood from his chair swiftly, tossing his fork to the table angrily, then striding towards Harry, his cloak billowing behind him menacingly. Harry felt himself start to tremble and stepped back, away from the towering rage his father was displaying. He was frozen stiff, and didn't react until he felt Snape grip him by his upper arm tightly, hauling him around, and non-too-gently pushing him out of the Great Hall through the back door.


	29. A Strange Comfort

Another chapter for you all!! I'm sure my sudden spurt of writing will leave me very soon, so enjoy the quick coming chapters while you can.

Don't forget to review, please!!

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Chapter Twenty Nine: A Strange Comfort

The four remaining adults in the Great Hall sat in silence, either stunned or enraged at what had just come to pass.

Fudge was sitting stock still, staring straight ahead, his eyes ablaze with malice. Percy was visibly fuming, balling his fists at his side and grinding his teeth, staring at the door Snape and Harry had just departed through.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were both shocked by the sudden outburst, and worried over – not only Fudges reaction to such a verbal slandering – but also over the reaction they had seen upon Severus's display. Harry had seemed petrified, and an acute terror was filling his eyes as Severus had approached him. It didn't bode well for the pair.

"Well … he certainly inherited the temper," Dumbledore muttered, only just loud enough for McGonagall to hear as well. She nodded blankly in response. "Cornelius, I feel I should apologise for the way Harry was behaving," he waited for the Minister to turn toward him. "He is under a great deal of pressure at present, and just dropping such news on him seemed to be the breaking point…"

"That is no excuse for behaving in such a belittling manner towards the Minister!" Percy hissed, turning his burning gaze on the headmaster. "He may not be out of his mind, but he's a loose cannon that needs to be roped in! You allow that arrogant, condescending _minor, _too much leeway in regards to rules and proper discipline, Professor, and it has to stop before he gets completely out of our control!"

"Since when has Mr Potter been under anyone's control, Mr Weasley?" McGonagall's stern voice cut in, her tone like ice. "You can't bind him to do your bidding. Not now, nor ever."

Percy swelled indignantly, "Well then I think it's high time someone _did_ put a leash on him. The least he could have done was show the smallest amount of gratitude, but he blows up in our faces!"

"Well how do you think you would have felt if you're telling the truth, no one believes you, and then when they finally do, it's too late to do anything with it?" snapped McGonagall, now also getting to her feet. "Up in Albus's office you have living proof that Sirius Black was wrongfully imprisoned for twelve years – something that Harry had tried to get across to you two years ago – and all of a sudden you believe him, but it's pointless now, as Black was killed in the Department of Mysteries fiasco! Did you really expect him to be leaping for joy over this?!!!"

"Calm yourself, Minerva," said Dumbledore, motioning for her to resume her seat. "A shouting match over this is not going to solve anything."

A tense silence resounded after Dumbledore spoke, as each of them sought to calm their tempers, until finally McGonagall huffed irritably and sat down again.

"One must really question your running of this school, Albus," said Fudge after a moment, turning to face the sagely headmaster. "You have an ex-Deatheater in your employ, a potentially violent and hot tempered Potions apprentice, and a student that can run rampant without recrimination. It doesn't paint a good picture, Albus…"

"And you know that to interfere is pointless, especially after your disastrous attempt at controlling this school last term," Albus countered evenly, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers. "You certainly misjudged Delores Umbridge, didn't you, Cornelius? She even threatened to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Mr Potter…"

"Probably would have bounced off of his ego…" Percy muttered, clearly intending to keep the comment to himself, but failing miserably as the whole group heard it.

__

Crack!

Where Percy had been sitting, a red furred weasel now resided, looking surprised at his sudden change, though it quickly morphed into fear when he looked over to the caster.

Professor McGonagall was on her feet again, glaring daggers at the junior assistant, her wand pointed steadily at him. "You are dangerously presumptuous, Mr Weasley," she stated quite evenly. "I recommend that you no longer assume anything, where Mr Potter is concerned. You may very well embarrass yourself, not to mention making a few of our more influential members upset with you."

"I've had enough of this meeting," said Fudge briskly as he stood from his seat. "Minerva, if you would please revert Mr Weasley, we shall be off to arrange Mr Pettigrew's imminent trial."

After glancing at Dumbledore, Minerva grudgingly relented and re-transfigured Percy back into himself. He scowled at his former professor (who returned the scathing glance) before gathering up all of his papers and following the Minister out of the Great Hall.

"I could have never believed that a Weasley would be so narrow minded about anything, and yet we've undeniably located two of them. First Percy, and now Ron…" Minerva shook her head, sighing heavily.

Dumbledore nodded, "True … It doesn't promise anything to look forward to. All we can do is hope they see straight by the time they are needed to fight…"

They sat quietly for a moment in contemplative silence.

"How do you suppose Severus and Harry are going, Albus? He was in a right state when he took Harry out…"

"I have no idea, Minerva," said Albus quietly. "I just hope it is resolved without the castle being brought down on us…"

***

After half-dragging a submissive and shaking Harry down the hallways, Severus opened the door to his chambers and roughly pushed him forward, before slamming the door behind him and locking it; placing a silencing charm on it as well for good measure. He whirled back to Harry and saw the boy kneeling on the floor facing away from him; shoulders hunched over and shaking silently.

He immediately felt bad for the image he must have displayed to his son, but it had only been for the benefit of maintaining his image to the Minister and the Weasley whelp. His heart cringed at the memory of Harry's terror filled eyes when he approached him in the Great Hall, and he hoped to never have such a look directed at him from his son ever again.

It was strange, he thought, that after so many years as a Deatheater, seeing exactly the same terror in his victims eyes before he brutalized and killed them, that that look had a much more profound effect on him than any before it. The others had been nameless victims … deemed suitable kills by the taint in their bloodline. That was before he'd become a spy though … but even afterwards, he had never felt such a painful clench of his heart before, by such an expression. He never wanted to feel such a way again.

"Harry?" he asked softly, making sure his voice was gentle, remembering the talk he'd had with Remus that morning. "I'm not angry with you…"

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry's voice declared, as soft as a whisper and wavering slightly. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to shout…"

"I don't care about that, Harry – "

"I won't yell again – I promise I won't – "

"_Harry!_"

He curled up further, "_I'm sorry – _"

Severus let out a heavy, frustrated breath and threw his hands up in the air. What the hell was he to do in a situation like this?

"Harry, I'm going to leave you here so you can settle down…"

Strangely, Harry started to rock back and forth at this, making Severus stop with mounting concern.

"Please don't leave! Everybody leaves … even the Dursley's will…"

Severus frowned at the mention of the Dursley's, wondering why his son had brought them up at a time like this … but then he read between the lines and made his way forward, slowly settling in front of Harry and kneeling down.

"Harry, what do you mean, the Dursley's will leave?" he asked, reaching up and touching his shoulder.

Harry flinched away, but his eyes were no longer as vacant as they had been, starting to focus on him.

"Just like Mum and Dad, and Sirius, and Cedric … they all left because of me. The Dursley's are next…"

Severus shook his head, "No, Harry, none of that was your fault – "

"Yes it _was_!" Harry burst out suddenly, looking up at his father, eyes burning and face twisted into a loathsome grimace. "Sirius wouldn't have died if I'd only tried harder in Occlumency, or listened to Hermione! Voldemort wouldn't be reborn if I'd let Sirius and Remus kill Peter in Third Year! I told Cedric to take the Cup with me, leading him to his death! Mum and Dad wouldn't be dead if I hadn't been born, hence not having someone referred to in a Prophecy with them – !"

"Then the Dark Lord would _still_ be at the height of his power!" Severus cut in, grasping Harry firmly by his shoulders, looking him in the eye pleadingly. "He wouldn't have fallen! We wouldn't have known thirteen years of peace, where no one had to look over their shoulder, or think twice about who to trust, or wonder if their family might not be there tomorrow! _You are responsible for that_! That, and you stopped his rising twice! _Twice,_ Harry! You duelled with him and lived – faced him down, _twice_! No one else has that to their name save Albus, and he has over a century's worth more experience than you have – !"

"If I was _so great_ and heroic, then why couldn't I even stand up to a simple Muggle…?" said Harry, making Severus stop his tirade by the sheer dullness of his voice, and sudden shuttering of his eyes. "A _bloody Muggle_?" Severus couldn't answer, and Harry sighed, shaking his head as he looked at his knees. "I wish that bullet had finished what Voldemort started … but I know it couldn't have. I have to die by Voldemort's hands … just like Him by mine…"

Severus didn't know what to say. He could tell that Harry's earlier episode was over, but the fear of reprimand had been replaced with a despondence that worried him. It wasn't right, to place so much burden on one so young, no matter how old his physical form appears. The pressure at knowing the future of the Wizarding populace rested on your shoulders must be smothering … yet Harry always seemed to hide it's weight from watchful eyes. Until it starts to become too much for him to take alone, as Severus could see was beginning to happen now.

Leaning forward, Severus took a chance and gently gathered Harry in a warm embrace, locking his arms around his sons shoulders and slowly rocking him from side to side. At first he felt Harry stiffen, but after a moment, he felt him relax and lean into him, thin arms snaking around his waist and latching onto the back of his robes.

They knelt like this until Severus felt his legs going numb, though he wouldn't budge until Harry made to move first. A strange satisfaction came from performing such a gesture, awakening a warmth in his chest that he'd never felt before. It was such a powerfully intoxicating sensation that, he wished he could feel it all the time. It was the first time, Severus noted, that he'd ever felt at such ease with his life as it was.

"He's going after the Dursley's next," came Harry's muffled voice from his shoulder, feeling the arms around him tighten slightly. "They left the house apparently, and He's going to take advantage of them not being under the wards."

Severus nodded, knowing that he'd have to tell Albus about the newest development as soon as possible.

"I know how they treated me," Harry continued quietly, shifting slightly in his hold, "But I don't want my only link to my Mother dieing either…"

"I understand, Harry," Sev murmured back softly. He let a small grin touch his lips, "Besides, I want your relatives to live, just so I can kill them for the way they treated you. Especially your Uncle…"

Harry pulled away from him a little, forcing him to relinquish most of his hold on him, and looked up, his eyes sad. "Please don't joke about that?"

"I apologise," said Sev, nodding his head in acquiesce. "How do you know that the Dark Lord is targeting them?" he asked, standing up when Harry pulled away and moved to the leather couch in front of the fireplace. He tried to get the blood flow through his legs back to normal again, before rounding the couch and sitting next to his son.

Harry leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "You know this morning, while I was unconscious in the Hospital Wing?" Sev nodded. "Well, I wasn't completely not there. I could … _feel_ … that something on the grounds didn't feel like it belonged here. It was sort of tickling the back of my mind. I focused on it, and discovered I was sort of picking up on Wormtail's thoughts and senses. Did you know that you smell like damp herbs and spices? Anyway, that's how I knew he was coming, and that he was sent to look in on you. While he was wandering, he was thinking about how Voldemort was going to … _entertain_ himself with my relatives in quite the near future…"

"Do you know where they might be going if they were going to be leaving the house for an extended period?" asked Severus.

Harry nodded. "They would probably spend a few days out with Aunt Marge before Dudley started school again." He let out a harsh laugh. "Or they went on a week long holiday to celebrate my not being there anymore … and if that's the case, I wouldn't know where they would go…"

Severus nodded, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I'm sure Albus would know how to find them. The only question would be how to keep them safe?" Severus already knew the answer to this question, and he hated the very idea of it. Not to mention how Harry would feel…

"I already know that Professor Dumbledore will want to keep them here, Sev," said Harry, resolving his inner debate. "It can't be helped if they're to be kept relatively safe, and I have no say in the matter anyway."

Severus hated the idea of having Harry exposed to those people again, but as he said, it couldn't be helped. "I'll see if we can get them into an isolated part of the castle," he suggested, getting to his feet. "I'll go and inform Albus of this. Hopefully Weasley and Fudge have vacated the premises by now…?"

Harry nodded, also getting to his feet. "I'm sorry I lost my cool with Percy, Sev," he looked at his feet. "He just grated on my nerves, and after the way him and Fudge went at me last term…"

Severus rested a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, feeling a thrill when he didn't flinch at the motion. "No need to apologise, Harry," he said. "I seem to remember doing much the same when a nosy child decided to take a dive into my memories … only there was no one there to restrain me when I took things too far…"

"No, that was my fault," Harry broke in. "It was none of my business in the first place."

Severus let it go and nodded, "Are you going to come back to breakfast? I'm sure Miss Granger will be up very soon, and even if she isn't, we can get a blow by blow of what happened after we left…"


	30. A Weight Relieved

I can't believe it … another Chapter … Is this a new record or what? As I said last time, don't get used to this. Soon, my sudden flow will dry up and you'll be waiting a lot longer for the chapters. Oh well, I hope you like this chapter.

Remember to review!!

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Chapter Thirty: A Weight Relieved

"Good gracious, Remus! What are you doing back here?"

Remus had only just been released from the Infirmary and was making his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He'd been thinking of the traitor, now up in Albus's office, and couldn't help but feel bitter that he'd been caught too late for Sirius to benefit from it. He was so enraptured with his thoughts, that he collided with another person. At the surprised exclamation, Remus looked up at a surprised Filius Flitwick, looking as though he'd only just arrived at the school, ready to start all of his lesson plans and such for the coming year.

"Filius, good to see you," he replied, shaking the shorter mans hand. "Sorry I ran into you…"

Flitwick waved the apology aside, "Oh don't worry about that. I'm rather easy to miss." They continued towards the general staff quarters. "Why are _you _here though? You teaching again?"

Remus laughed, "Oh, Merlin no! No, something came up and I had to be here."

Filius gave Remus a questioning glace, obviously wanting him to elaborate, yet knowing that he wouldn't. They continued in companionable silence to the Staff Room, where upon entry, came to see yet another professor.

"Hello there, Filius, Remus," greeted the Herbology professor, Saffron Sprout, as she bustled around setting her things about the spacious common room. "Have a good summer, Filius? Remus … you're a surprise, though?"

"Hello, Saffron," Remus smiled, nodding at the Hufflepuff. "I normally wouldn't be here but, someth – "

"Because 'something came up', isn't that right, Remus?" Flitwick interrupted, grinning at the werewolf. "So, what did Albus call you in for? Something has to have been going on for you to be here, otherwise an owl would have sufficed?"

Remus looked back and forth between the two professors, feeling a little like their student again under their gaze. "I'm not at liberty to discuss it with you, but if you ask Albus, I'm sure he'll let you know what you have to…"

***

Harry sat at the Head Table again, next to his father while he informed Dumbledore of the information he'd gleamed from Pettigrew's mind about the Dursley's. He tried his hardest to ignore any of the discussion that revolved around a solution, but he couldn't help cringing when it was decided that they would have to come to the school for a little while. Dumbledore was going to send off both Severus and Remus to collect them from wherever it was they went, later on that day.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, breaking his train of thought, and found the headmaster staring at him a little gravely.

"Yes sir?"

"Harry, I must ask that, while your relatives are here, you will have to remain looking as you did when you left them, as well as lowering almost all of your abilities. I'm afraid that we cannot risk them finding anything odd about you, just in case they do end up telling the wrong people. Do you understand?"

Harry swallowed, but still nodded jerkily. "I understand," he answered, consciously lowering his shields and buffering his toughness and strength.

The invisible aura of power disappeared, and it was clear that his father and Dumbledore had felt it vanish.

"Harry, I didn't mean that you had to do it now…"

"It's okay, Professor," Harry sighed, trying to ignore the way the world seemed duller, less alive to him, now that he could no longer pick up everything. "If I'm to return to the student body, as either me or _myself_, I would have to get used to getting along without most of them anyway. Might as well adjust to it now, right?"

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile, "I truly wish you didn't have to, Harry, but it is our only option at this current time."

"They'll be kept down in the Dungeons, away from any of us, but more importantly, away from you. Especially your Uncle," said Severus, patting Harry on the shoulder. "They will be let out to wander if they wish, but only with an escort of two of the House Elves. None of them will be able to come within sight of you, unless one of us; meaning Remus, Albus or myself, are with you. Okay?"

Feeling much better about the arrangement, Harry nodded, letting himself lean back in his chair, relaxing for the first time in over a week. He shut his eyes and folded his hands across his stomach, trying to get back into the habit of breathing again, as well as creating a false heartbeat. If he was to pretend being a human, he had to look like he was doing the same things. _Hmm … I'll have to start sleeping again…_

"Albus, what is Mr Potter doing here?"

Harry's eyes snapped open, and through his fake glasses, he saw Remus walking towards them, flanked by Professors Flitwick and Sprout.

"Ahh … Filius, Saffron! What a pleasant surprise," said Albus, beaming over at them, not even hinting that he heard the question. "I trust you both had a pleasant summer?"

"Yes it was fine, Albus," said Flitwick, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "Back to my question. Why is Mr Potter here, and what does Remus have to do with any of it? I ran into him just near the Staff Commons, and he said that I should ask you…"

"Filius, you should know better than to ask about anything you don't already know of," said McGonagall, who had been listening to everything unobtrusively. "If it concerns you, or anyone else, then they will be informed. The less people that know of what's just come about, the better."

"Well, I do believe that the decision of who should know and shouldn't, would go to Harry here, wouldn't you think?" said Severus, raising an eyebrow pointedly at Minerva before turning to face Harry. "Do you think they should know, Harry?"

Harry stared at the gob smacked professors, staring at Severus as though he was mental, and asked Dumbledore, "Sir, are they part of the Order in any fashion?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes they are, Harry. They watch out for things in the school, just like Severus and Minerva do during term. But their responsibilities aren't the top priorities."

"You can tell them about it then," Harry replied, looking at his father. "Along with who _you_ are in all of this." Harry grinned at the malice-free glare Severus was throwing at him, before getting serious again. "But only on the condition that they treat me the way they always have, afterwards."

"Harry," Severus began in a whisper. "I didn't really want to tell any other members of staff other than Minerva about me…"

"Well, I'll make you a deal then, Sev," said Harry, not bothering to keep his voice down at the last, grinning at the mild reprimand in his black eyes. "You let me and Hermione go into Muggle London, so I can get myself a decent wardrobe for myself, and you don't have to tell them about you. Deal?"

Severus seemed to think it over, looking sceptical. "Only if you take a qualified Wizard with the two of you, and you boot yourself up again … then we have a deal."

Harry grinned and held out his hand. "Agreed."

Severus mimicked and took the hand, smiling. "Agreed."

"Someone pinch me," muttered Sprout, staring openly at Harry and Severus. "I'm quite sure I've stepped into the Twilight Zone…"

***

Ten minutes later, Harry was up at his bedroom door, knocking lightly in the hope that Hermione would wake at the sound, rather than making him enter and attempt to wake her. He wasn't too fussed with that idea.

The door opened up suddenly, revealing a very sleepy looking Hermione, who was staring up at him, bleary eyed.

"Morning, 'Mione," he grinned, "Where going into London today, with Professor McGonagall. Want to come?"

She only stared at him blankly for a moment, before blinking and stepping forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

Harry knew why she reacted like this, and willingly returned the embrace, patting her on the back lightly and murmuring comforts in her ear.

"I'm so sorry, Harry!" she wailed, pulling back and wiping her eyes hastily. "I had _no_ idea it was you this morning, you scared the living daylights out of me – what are you doing up? You should be in the Infirmary?"

Harry chuckled at her worry. "I'm fine, Hermione, really. Poppy let me out a while ago. You've got really good reflexes you know, especially for someone who had only just woken up – "

"Don't you dare make fun of what happened, Harry," Hermione cut in, hesitantly reaching out and placing her hand on Harry's chest, right over where she'd cursed him. "That would have killed anyone else…"

Harry smiled warmly down at her and gently removed her hand from his chest, but kept hold of it. "Then you're lucky it was only me. Try not to dwell on it. I'm fit as a fiddle."

Hermione sighed, but nodded, though still clearly worried over him, yet leaving it be.

"You said something about going into London with McGonagall," she said, changing the subject and venturing back into the bedroom. "I thought Snape wasn't going to let you?"

"He wasn't," Harry replied slyly, shutting the door behind him. "Not until I struck an accord with him, that is."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him sceptically. "You bribed Professor Snape?"

"I wouldn't call it _bribe,_ per se … but the situation allowed for an exchange of favours."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, silently saying, "spill, boy."

"Well," said Harry, sitting down on his bed, "While we were down in the Great Hall, Professors Flitwick and Sprout showed up with Remus. The situation was as such that, they were asking Dumbledore why Remus was there, and me, once they saw me, so, Sev asked me if I wanted them told about my situation. I agreed after checking with Dumbledore that they were involved in some part with the Order, but the condition was that Sev had to tell them about his being my father. He disagreed, so our compromise was that, we could go into Muggle London with an escort, and he didn't have to tell anyone else he was my father."

Hermione blinked, seeming dazed by all the twists. She nodded slowly, "Okay then. That was simple enough." She stood and made to walk out the door, but stopped and looked at him. "Why do you look like the old you again?"

"Oh, um," Harry stumbled over his words, feeling small when Hermione put her hands on her hips, glaring down at him to tell her. "Well … Fudge and Percy were here this morning, at breakfast, so I had to look like this, as I'd kind of roughed up Percy a little when I ran into them outside Dumbledore's office…"

"Harry!" She admonished, shaking her head. "You shouldn't abuse your strength like that! Why were you at the Headmasters office in the first place?"

"Err … well, this morning we caught Wormtail in the Infirmary. He was there to look up Sev, but I caught him. And no, he doesn't know that I've Awakened…"

"You caught him?" Hermione whispered, her hand making it's way to her mouth. "Really and truly, caught him?"

Harry nodded, though smiling a little sadly. "Yeah … I did. At least now Sirius's Will can be settled. Everything was frozen because he was an escapee, but now it can all be dealt with."

Hermione returned the small smile, the happiness at Wormtail's capture shining in her eyes. "Yeah, it'll be good to put everything to rest. But Harry?"

"What?"

"That doesn't tell me why _you_ were going to the headmaster's office. That only tells me why the Minister and Percy were there."

Harry grimaced, not really wanting to disclose the rest of his story to her … but he did anyway. "I was going there to tell Dumbledore that Voldemort will be heading for the Dursley's next." Hermione gasped, looking horrified. "Dumbledore's sending Remus and Sev to fetch them and … and bring them back here…" Harry swallowed, still feeling himself physically cringe at the idea of the Dursley's wandering around his home. "They're being kept in an out of the way area in the Dungeons."

Hermione furrowed her brow, "Why down in the Dungeons? Why not the General Quarters up near the teachers?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, "Because, it's to keep them away from me…"

"Harry you can't think that keeping them so far away will protect them more – "

"They aren't the ones that need the protection, Hermione," Harry interrupted, his voice as soft as a whisper, though it stopped Hermione from speaking.

"What do you mean?"

Harry opened his eyes and looked directly at Hermione, feeling his eyes burn and blur. "They are down there, to protect _me _from _them_. Or my Uncle, if you wanted specifics…"

Hermione looked stricken, "You? Why would you need protection from them …" she trailed off and her eyes widened.

"It's why I was brought to Hogwarts in the first place," Harry muttered, bowing his head shamefully. "Sev came around to check on me on Dumbledore's orders, after the letters you sent to Remus were relayed, about my not responding to your mail. He found me, out in the back yard, while – while Uncle Vernon was – _disciplining_ me for ruining one of Dudley's birthday presents. Sev came along and told Uncle Vernon off, so he drew a rifle on him…"

Hermione had her hands over her mouth as she listened, shaking her head when he paused to take a shuddering breath.

"He fired … I jumped in the way…"

"Oh God, Harry!" Hermione sobbed, kneeling in front of him and taking a hand in hers.

"I remember Sev catching me, and the look in his eyes was, strange. It was as though he couldn't believe that I'd do something like that for him. Next I knew, I was waking up in the Infirmary…"

Hermione dropped his hand and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing on his shoulder without restraint. He hugged her back, hating seeing her like this, but also feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his chest at telling her.

"Is that why you had to replace everything this year?"

Harry could barely decipher what was said with her voice being muffled and choking back sobs at the same time, but when he did, he nodded. "Yes. He burned everything bar my trunk. The only things I had were my Invisibility Cloak, Photo album and Wand, which I'd hidden in my room…" Harry trailed off, realization hitting him like an anvil. "He was Mr Phillips!" he exclaimed, confusing Hermione.

"What?" she asked, pulling back and wiping her eyes.

"Sev!" said Harry, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "Uncle Vernon had me kicked out into the garden shed to sleep the week before I got here, because there was someone coming over to see how a normal British family lived. His name was Andrew Phillips! It had to have been Sev in disguise, how else would he have found my cloak, photo album and wand?!"

"But," Hermione floundered for a moment, "If it was Professor Snape, why didn't he do something about it earlier?"

Harry shrugged, "I could ask? Worst he can do is not answer."

With that now in their objective goals, Harry let (a still upset) Hermione go back to her room, so she could get ready for the trip into London City. Harry found the Muggle money he'd gotten the day before and conjured a wallet to keep it in, charming it to not go outside five feet from him, in case someone had slippery fingers in the crowds.

Remembering that he was looking for clothes, Harry Shifted a little, making him a bit closer to his real height and filling out more. Satisfied, he pocketed his wallet and left, waiting for Hermione to come out of her room. While he was waiting, he saw someone walking towards him, wearing the most outlandish Muggle clothing Harry had ever seen before.

"Ahh, Mr Potter!" they called out, making Harry choke back a laugh when he recognised the person as Professor McGonagall. "Only waiting for Miss Granger, are we?" She finally reached him and looked him up and down. "You're taller again, Mr Potter."

"Well, I do need to by clothes that _fit_, professor," he replied, no longer hiding his smile, looking her up and down. She was wearing a full brim straw hat, a blue dress with yellow polka dots on it that reached her knees, a bright green pullover, and a pair of sandals that looked as though they'd come from the Roman times. "Are, um – are you intending to where that out in public, Professor?" he asked haltingly.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed and she seemed to stand up straighter, trying to make Harry feel dwarfed, even if he was a few inches taller than her now. "And what, precisely, is _wrong_ with what I'm wearing, Mr Potter?" she asked sternly.

"Well, err…" Harry stammered, trying to think of a way to shoot her down nicely. "Professor, Muggles don't where things like that when they're going into London, is all … um – Do you mind if I, um … If I – "

"Spit it out, Potter."

"May I re-transfigure your clothes into what a Muggle your age would be wearing?"

McGonagall blinked at the sudden request, and Harry felt his face grow warm when the silence lingered.

"Mr Potter, this is a most unusual request – "

"I know it is Professor," said Harry hurriedly, "but you really can't go out into the Muggles wearing anything like that…"

"I have done so before, Mr Potter – "

"Oh have you now?" said Harry, grimacing at the harshness in his tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. How about we wait and get Hermione's opinion on the matter, please? She's been around Muggles a bit more than I have, and should know the current do's and don't of fashion…?"

McGonagall heaved a sigh, glancing down at herself before shaking her head. "Very well, Mr Potter. We'll get Miss Granger's view, and go from there."


	31. Shopping, and a Meeting

Hello everyone! Another chapter for you all. Not much action or drama, but there is shopping. Not that I do much of that myself anyway, but hey…

Just a note: All of the previous chapters before I decided to incorporate OotP have now been altered to suit! Nothing in the main storyline has changed, I only mucked around with some of the wording and references to Sirius being alive. If you want to spend the extra effort to read the small changes, go right ahead. If not, you haven't missed anything.

I'm glad so many of you enjoyed McGonagall's scene with Percy, and I know that the whole red weasel thing is a little cliché, but hey, it works. I'm happy that the Sev and Harry scene was liked as well, but I find those sorts of things rather hard to get down properly. I never know if I can make them sound right, or if the emotional message gets across properly. Please tell me when they work and when they don't? Then I can compare and improve.

Anyway … back to the chapter……

****

Chapter Thirty One: Shopping, and a Meeting

It turned out that Hermione had much the same reaction that Harry had, when she exited her room to see the get-up McGonagall was wearing. As such, she reluctantly allowed Harry to Transfigure her clothing temporarily into something suitable. Both he and Hermione had circled McGonagall for at least fifteen minutes, discussing what types of clothing would look best on her. Eventually, they chose a smart, deep burgundy, blazer suit, with a pale yellow blouse. The sandals turned into a pair of closed in, leather slip-ons, black in colour, while Harry removed her hat and changed it into a stylish hair clip.

"What on earth is that for, Potter?" she had demanded as soon as he'd shown it to her. Harry didn't answer and smiled, handing the clip to Hermione and waving his hand. The next moment, every single bobby pin holding the tight bun of hair together had materialized in his palm.

If Harry had a camera, he would've taken a picture of the utterly surprised expression on the usually stern face, but soon the desire for mischief left Harry's mind. As he'd never seen McGonagall with anything _but_ a bun in her hair, he was quite surprised at the thick mass that tumbled to her mid back, framing her face and making her look years younger.

All three had lost the power of speech, so Harry just waved his hand and gathered up the wavy hair in a half-ponytail, directing Hermione to clip the hair back. Still silently, Harry removed the older woman's glasses and turned them into a small handbag, where she could carry her wand.

Waving his hand again, Harry stood behind McGonagall as a full length mirror appeared in front of them, letting them all see each others reflection. Harry saw McGonagall look herself up and down, seeming surprised that she was looking at herself.

"Last touch," said Harry, breaking the silence. He waved his hand in front of the Transfiguration Professors face, and smiled when a set of matching green eyes narrowed at him. "Now, you can be my prim and proper grandmother," he stated, grinning, yet marvelling what the change in clothing did for his Head of House. "Escorting her grandson and friend to the Mall."

Hermione still looked to stunned to speak as McGonagall rounded on him, though he could see a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Well then, _oh grandson_ of mine … you can't very well go around calling me Professor all day, but I'm sure my given name will suffice. You're both given permission for the day." They both nodded their understanding, smiling madly.

"What about 'Aunt Minnie'?" said Harry, vanishing the mirror as they all headed toward the Entrance Hall, grinning down at the older woman.

Minerva narrowed her eyes and levelled a piercing glare at Harry. "Don't push your luck, Potter – "

"Harry," Harry interrupted, still unable to wipe the grin off his face. "Or Callen actually, as he wouldn't be as recognisable, would he…" Saying so, Harry promptly Shifted back into Callen, though he remained at age sixteen. He conjured a hair band and tied back his raven hair in a pony tail as they walked, laughing at the wide eyed expressions the two ladies were throwing him. "Oh, nearly forgot," he remarked, remembering his scar and moving it back to the scar on his shoulder. "Perfect."

"Show off," Hermione groused, grinning all the while. "No really, Professor; calling you 'Aunt Minnie' would sound more familial than just using your first name. We do want to sound as natural as we can…"

Reluctantly, Minerva agree to them calling her Aunt Minnie, and she would call them by their given names (Harry being Callen instead, of course).

"How are we getting there, _Aunt Minnie_?" said Harry, emphasizing her honorary name and grinning. "Portkey?"

"I'm not sure, _Callen_," Minerva returned the sarcasm coyly. "I was going to ask Albus – "

"I can just Paft us there, you know?" Harry proposed innocently. "Right now, if you wanted…"

Minerva frowned at him. "Paft? What's that?"

"Harry … No," Hermione scolded, shaking her head as Harry grasped both her and Minerva around their arms. "You can't be seen doing these sorts of things! How do you know if the area will be clear?"

"Wait," said Minerva warily. "It's not possible to apperate in Hogwarts, and you shouldn't even know how to?"

"It's not Apperation, Aunt Minnie," Harry grinned evilly. "It's Pafting … and don't worry 'Mione. It'll be clear."

Hermione just shook her head and braced her self, but Minerva didn't know what hit her when all of a sudden black smoke exploded from all of them, followed by a most disturbing sensation of being everywhere at once, being pulled in every direction, then the smoke vanishing, leaving her whole, and inside a dim alleyway.

"Mr – Sorry … _Callen_, I would appreciate it if you didn't ever do that to me again…" Minerva stated quite calmly, though she did need to catch her breath.

"Would you believe me if I said Hermione told me almost the exact same thing the first time I'd done it to her, too?" Harry grinned.

"Absolutely," Minerva retorted, starting to move towards the sound of traffic. "She always was the sensible one."

"Ah! Do I detect favouritism, Aunt Minnie?" Harry replied, his voice oilier than his fathers hair. "Because everyone knows, that that's not allowed…"

"Stick a cork in it, Cal," Hermione shot out, still irritated by Harry not listening to her and Pafting into an unknown area. "You're being too amiable to be normal, all right? Settle down!"

Harry's grin faltered for a moment as he looked back at her, seeing that she looked serious. The momentary boisterousness vanished, leaving in it's stead an acute stab of hurt. He'd told her about his home life not even an hour ago, and knew that he'd never been Muggle shopping before. Yet she was scolding him for expressing his excitement? He let out a strangled laugh, before setting his features and nodding. "Sure, Hermione," he answered, not hearing how much duller his voice sounded, nor seeing the stern glare Minerva shot at Hermione.

"That was unnecessary, Hermione," she whispered, slowing her step to walk beside her. "How often have you even seen Harry so happy about something so simple? Let him enjoy himself."

Hermione sighed, "I know what he's had to put up with at his home, Minerva, but – he's just making a fool of himself!"

Minerva tutted and shook her head. "Hermione, if anyone had the right to make a fool of themselves, and enjoy doing it, Harry would win hands down…" They both looked ahead to see Harry walking along steadily, though his shoulders were a little hunched, and he scuffed the ground with his boot on every other step. "He seems to take your opinions to heart, Hermione … and with his upbringing, he's probably wondering what he's done wrong to upset you? Let him have some fun for once. It's not often he has any…"

Leaving Hermione to think on what she said, Minerva picked up her pace and strode beside Harry, just as they rounded the alley's corner, sending them into a busy street.

"Try not to let it ruin your day, Callen," Minerva patted Harry's shoulder reassuringly. "Have as much fun as you want, just don't draw too much attention to yourself."

Harry glanced at her, then threw a look over his shoulder for a moment, before grumbling, "I was only making fun … I don't understand, did I do something wrong?"

"No, Cal, you didn't," said Minerva. "I think Hermione was just worried about what I just said … about drawing unwarranted attention to yourself. She just went about it the wrong way, is all."

"Well, I don't want any extra attention anyway," Harry growled, though his tone was lighter than it had been. "I get enough at home, let alone out here." They continued for a minute, looking at shop windows as they passed. "I wasn't implying that you play favourites either, Aunt Minnie, I was just joking around…"

"You don't have to tell me that, Callen," Minerva answered, shaking her head a little. "I knew you were only having a joke at my expense. That's fine by me."

Harry nodded, but at that moment, a tingle started at the back of his mind, alerting him that something was about to happen. He stopped dead and turned around, just in time to see a rather young looking boy bump into Hermione, and then dash in his general direction.

"Hey!" Hermione yelled angrily, feeling her pocket empty, then breaking out into a sprint after the kid.

Harry was already in perfect position to intercept, and as soon as the boy tried to barge past him, all he had to do was stand there. The boy had tried to shoulder past Harry at a run, but with Harry's strength it was as though the boy had hit the corner of a brick wall, sending him spinning to the ground.

Bending down, Harry picked the groggy boy up by his collar and hauled him to his feet. Hermione came up beside the youth, breathing harder than normal, and looked fit to be tied. Minerva was nearby, watching them warily, but not intervening.

"Let go you bastard!" the kid barked, trying to break Harry's grip vainly. "Get off!"

"Give the lady her wallet back," Harry stated quite politely, almost smiling at the surprised look in the boys eyes at the request. "Right now, please."

Nodding jerkily, the kid handed Hermione her wallet back. She snatched it from his hand angrily, then opened it, checking to see if it all was still there. She nodded that it was and Harry let the youth go, staring hard at him as he took off across the street and down another alley.

"Why the hell did you let him go for, Cal!" Hermione hissed, glaring at Harry incredulously. "He was a bag snatcher and pick pocket!"

"He was also homeless, penniless, and parentless, Hermione," said Harry quietly, tapping his own temple, telling her that he'd gleamed some of the boy's mind. "How else would you expect a twelve year old to get on?"

Hermione seemed to deflate at the revelation, nodded, and returned to their window shopping. Harry took a last look at the alley, then followed the two ladies in browsing. Soon they found the shops they were looking for, and Harry proceeded to try on almost every item of clothing Hermione shoved at him. He ended up buying four polo shirts, each a different base colour with one black one, four sets of jeans to go with them, two were crème, one grey and one black. He bought two button down short sleeve shirts and two long sleeve ones, one of each being either deep burgundy or forest green. Two turtlenecks soon followed, one deep green the other black, along with a couple pair of track pants and cotton tees.

Harry was sure he'd have enough clothes for a while, but Hermione was insisting that he get at least a jacket of some kind. Relenting, much to Minerva's amusement, Harry let Hermione drag him over to the jackets section and proceeded to get him to try some on. After many debates and arguments, Harry settled with a black leather coat that reached his mid-thigh.

They left the shop and Harry discreetly shrunk the huge bags, then set off to a shoe store. Much the same routine went on, and eventually, Harry left the store with two pair of black Doc Martins, two pair of trainers, and a set of nice slippers.

After shrinking them, Harry suggested some food, as it was getting on towards lunch. Hermione and Minerva agreed, so Harry treated them to some McDonalds. To say Minerva was curious about the dish was an understatement, and it was all Harry and Hermione could do to stop her asking all sorts of questions regarding the cash register and drink machine.

"Are you ready to go back yet, Callen?" Minerva asked after they'd finished their lunch. "We don't want to be out too late."

Harry quickly finished munching on the ice from his Coke, and instead replied, "Could we stop off in Diagon Alley first please? I know I only went there yesterday, but I wanted to get some more money out and visit the stores in Hogsmeade?"

"Now Callen, that wasn't the plan – "

"_Please_, Aunt Minnie? I promise it won't take that long, and it's only to my Vault…"

Minerva sighed but nodded agreeably. "All right, all right … we'll go to Diagon Alley. But then it's straight to Hogsmeade, got it?!" she added firmly. Harry just nodded and stood, eager to get to his vault.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned.

***

Harry's happy mood disintegrated though, upon his entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. He'd been running hot, as his father had told him he had to if he was to travel into London that day, and as soon as his senses sorted everyone out, he could feel the distinct essence of Muggles. Three of them. With them, was a Werewolf, and an Enhanced Animagus.

"What is it, Cal?" Hermione asked quietly, seeing how tense he suddenly became. She looked around, as did Minerva. "What's wrong?"

Harry licked his lips and exhaled unevenly. "They … brought them here?"

Hermione frowned, "_Who_, Cal?" she looked around again. "What are you talking about?"

"The Dursley's!" Harry hissed, glaring at her desperately. "Sev and Remus brought them _here_!"

"What?!" Minerva exclaimed, looking around for the two men. "Are they mad?"

"Don't worry, Cal," said Hermione gently. "They can't do anything here, and they wouldn't even recognise you. Okay? Just, calm down a little … there you go…"

Harry managed to stop ringing his hands, and set his features to indifference, nodding to Hermione in thanks, before starting to walk towards his father and company.

***

__

'I hate Albus,' Severus thought furiously as he sat at the table in the Leaky Cauldron, painfully listening to the fat Muggle across from him muttering about 'Freaks' and 'How dare they?' … it was getting on his already frazzled nerves. He'd put up a small silencing charm to save other passer-by from Dursley's foul mouth, but unfortunately it didn't help him. He scowled at Petunia, who was cowering in the corner of the cubicle, trying futilely to hide her whale of a son, Dudley, behind her. Remus, who had the pleasure of sitting next to the horse and blubber-on-feet, was scowling almost as much as he was.

It had been one hell of a morning. After telling Flitwick and Sprout about Harry's transformation, and glancing over the reason he was at Hogwarts in the first place, Albus had told him to come up to his office, and to bring Remus with him. It was there, that they scried out the Dursley's location and were sent to retrieve them via Portkey. Albus had given one to Severus just before they'd left, telling him it would activate a little after lunchtime.

"That should be ample time to convince them to come," he'd told him, his infernal blue eyes twinkling. God he hated that twinkle.

Remus and he had Apperated to the coordinates they'd seen earlier, and found themselves standing on the footpath, of a rather posh looking suburban house.

"Where do you think we are?" Remus had asked.

Severus told him to shut up, after all, how was _he _to know where they were?

After walking up the steps and knocking on the door, however, they both realized that they knew _precisely_ where they were.

"Dudders! Go get the door, please!" a voice had boomed.

Severus turned and raised an eyebrow at Remus. "Was that a woman?"

Remus shook his head dumbly. "Couldn't tell…" he mumbled.

The next moment, the front door had opened, and Severus came face to face with Dudley Dursley once again. He opened his mouth to ask entrance, but didn't get that far.

"AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" Dudley screamed shrilly, pointing at them before running back into the house, making it shake on its foundations.

"Diddykins?" a shrill voice called out, barely being heard over Dudley's bellowing. "Diddykins, what's wrong?"

A dog barked incessantly, and Severus saw it appear at the door, growling up at them. He recognised it as the dog that had chased Harry up a tree when he was younger, from one of the many unpleasant memories he'd seen from their Occlumency lessons. Ripper, was it?

A leg the size of a tree trunk came into his vision, and Severus looked up to see the female version of Vernon Dursley. "Who the hell are you people?" she boomed, glaring down at them.

"Ah, Miss Margery Dursley, I believe?" said Severus, ignoring her question for his name. "We've come to talk with your brother, Mr Vernon Dursley. May we come in?"

She narrowed her eyes at them. "Why are you wearing dresses?" she asked, eyeing their robes. "Who the hell are you?"

"Marge! Who was that? It better not ha – "

Vernon came around the corner, only just visible by his sisters bulk. He looked at them and turned purple. "_What are you doing here!_" he choked out, pushing his sister back into her house and standing in front of her. "If this is about the boy, then I – "

"No, this is not about what you did to Mr Potter, Dursley," said Severus, though his tone hinted at how untrue he thought that was. "We've come to remove you to a safe location for a short stretch of time. The Dark Lord that rose last summer is on the hunt for you and your family. If you do not wish to accompany us freely, we shall be using force. It's your choice."

And so, here they were. Dursley had nearly blown a cog when he saw where they'd taken them for the moment, hence the silencing charm. Thank Merlin he hadn't told them they'd be actually staying at Hogwarts…

"Hey Dad, Uncle Remus! What are you doing here?" Severus instantly looked up at the word 'Dad', but soon felt his eyes wander to the unfamiliar elderly woman with his son and Hermione. "We've just finished our shopping with Aunt Minnie and thought we'd come here for a minute. Who are these people?"

"Callen, I thought you were in the City? And … _Aunt Minnie?_" he couldn't help but chuckle at Minerva, secretly marvelling at the change the get-up made on her. He couldn't ever remember seeing her with her hair down…

"Not a word, Severus," Minerva grumbled.

"We were," Harry answered the question. "But I wanted to get out some more gold, so I could look for some more stuff in Hogsmeade. Can I?"

Severus pursed his lips, but caught sight of Minerva's nod. "All right," he sighed, ignoring Dursley's grumbling. "You can take a quick detour to Hogsmeade. Don't take too long though."

Harry beamed and nodded, "Sure Dad. I won't be home late. See you Uncle Remus!" Harry waved as he headed towards the doorway to Diagon Alley.

Remus waved back, seemingly stunned by the title, but grinning at it all the while.

"How's he been today, Minerva?" Sev asked quietly, watching as Hermione followed his son out the back. "Any troubles?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Severus, as if he could be anything _but_? No, he's been fine. Rather boisterous all round, but … he was only enjoying himself."

Severus nodded, sighing with relief. "Good. You'd better go, or they'll leave you behind. I'll see you at …" he paused and looked at the Dursley's, "… School," he finished pointedly. Minerva nodded grimly and forced a smile at the Dursley's, before turning and following the two children.


	32. Consequences

Another Chapter!!! I have a feeling my sudden inspiration is going to run out soon, so please don't yell at me when that happens! Okay, opinion time. Who wants Angst? Who wants Comfort? Especially between Sev and Harry. More sappiness/reflection/conflict? Abuse? Revenge? Tell me what you'd like to see, and I shall do my best to comply!

Remember to include a review with your opinions please ;P

****

Chapter Thirty Two: Consequences

"I will never get used to that," Minerva muttered, when Harry Pafted them into Hogsmeade, hidden just in the tree line of the forest.

"I'll ditto that," said Hermione, massaging her temples. "Merlin … Cal, I don't recommend doing that to other people too often. We aren't built for it like you are."

Harry seemed to ponder on that. "Well, I could try and find a way to buffer it for you? Kind of like, knocking you out for the instant of transit, and reviving you upon reformation? You know?"

"Sounds wonderful, Cal," Hermione replied absently, still rubbing her temples. "Go finish your shopping … I'll catch up."

Harry took a step towards her, looking concerned, but Hermione waved her hand at him, telling him to leave. He opened his mouth to apologies for making her ill, but he knew she'd only tell him off for thinking so. He scratched the back of his neck as he turned towards Hogsmeade, feeling Minerva's hand pat him on the shoulder as he left, but he shrugged it off, feeling horrible. It wasn't as though he'd _intended_ for the Pafting to make anyone sick? He caused it, so he knew he could fix it … but Harry wondered if Hermione would even let him do that, using his powers. He had to figure out a way to Paft other creatures … and he'd fix Hermione. He hated her being angry with him…

*

"Are you trying to make a habit of upsetting him?" said Minerva, turning back to Hermione after watching Harry trudge into town. "That's twice today so far. Care to make it three by dinner?"

Hermione pushed herself off the tree she'd been leaning on, only to swoon and lean back onto it, groaning as her head pounded. "God, that last trip really hit home…" she muttered, barely acknowledging when Minerva stepped up to her and peered at her concernedly.

"Hermione, are you all right?" she asked, feeling her forehead. She was warm, her skin pale and a little clammy. "Hermione?"

She didn't respond and swayed, even with the tree to lean against. "I feel horrible," she groaned, right before her eyes rolled up into her head and crumbled to the ground. Minerva managed to catch her head before it hit, but it didn't stop the clench of panic in her chest at the sight of her ill student. What on earth was wrong with her?

Minerva looked up, hoping that Harry was still in sight, but her luck wasn't that good. He was nowhere in sight. She wanted to fetch him, so he could see what was wrong with Hermione, but she just couldn't leave her lying in the forest on her own and unconscious.

Her eyes fell on the handbag Harry had conjured her, and remembered her wand. Reaching over she retrieved it and immediately sent a silvery streak in the direction of Hogsmeade, directing it to find Harry and give him the message of Hermione's sudden state.

***

Severus watched with mirth as the Dursley's all tumbled to the ground in the Entrance Hall, as the portkey dropped by Remus's foot. He was grinning too.

"What in the blazes was that thing?!!" Dursley bellowed like a hippo, clumsily getting to his feet and attempting at standing nose-to-nose with the potions master. He looked around, "Where have you taken us?!"

Severus grinned wickedly, making the rounder man quake a little.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr Dursley," Dumbledore announced, walking down the Marble Staircase. Vernon swivelled and Petunia shrieked, hiding behind Dudley with ease. "You shall be staying here for the rest of the summer, and all things pending, possibly a little bit more. If you will follow me, I will show you and you're family to your quarters."

"Now just one minute!" Vernon shouted, storming towards Dumbledore. "You have no right, bringing us to this _abnormal_ place! You're trying to brainwash us into thinking all this hogwash is a _good_ and _natural_ occurrence! I'll not have it! We're going home this instant!"

Vernon marched back towards Dudley and Petunia, helping his portly son to his feet, and made for the doors. Severus and Remus were in the way, however, and both had their wands trained on the group.

"I think not, Mr Dursley," said Dumbledore, the joviality in his voice now to a minimum. "You will be staying in the quarters we have prepared for you, and you will do so without argument. It is for your own protection that we are doing this, so you had better appreciate it."

"Oh really," Vernon huffed, though he was eyeing all the wands warily. "And how do you know that this Dark Lord person is after us? You wouldn't really give a damn anyway," he added, nodding at Severus. "I know you hate me because of that freak that was in my house. What do you care if we're all murdered?"

Severus scowled at the man for the casual reference to the night he'd shot Harry, but instead he smirked a little, "You're right Dursley. _I_ don't care whether you and yours live or die. You can thank the request to keep you safe to your Nephew. He discovered it, and asked us to make sure you are all kept safe." Severus snarled at the man and stepped forward, "Though I can't for the life of me think _why_ he would want those that treated him worse than the scum of the earth, left alive…"

Dursley's eyes narrowed to slits, turning purple with rage. "So … that little freak is why we've been hauled off to this pile of garbage, eh? He'll wish he was never born by the time I'm through with him – "

Severus jabbed his wand into Vernon's throat, stopping his spiel. "Touch a hair on his head and I'll make sure the Healers have to scrape you off the walls."

"You can't be around all the time," Vernon growled lightly.

Severus was about to curse the man into oblivion, but Dumbledore's voice interfered with his burning desire to cause pain to this man.

"That will do, gentlemen," he scolded, though he was looking at Vernon with icy eyes. "Mr Dursley, if you do not come with us this moment to your rooms, we will force you. Understand?"

***

Harry was looking through the Dragon Hide vestments in one of the clothing stores in Hogsmeade, wanting something that could be used as an excuse for some spells not working on him while he wore them, when a silvery ribbon type streak floated before his eyes. He remembered seeing something similar during his fourth year. He remembered that Dumbledore had sent one off to Hagrid when he'd found Victor Krum stunned in the patch of trees he'd seen Bartimus Crouch Sr.

Wondering what it could mean, Harry reached out a hand and lowered his shields as he touched it. The ribbon vanished instantly, but as soon as it did, Harry heard Minerva's voice in his head, saying that Hermione had just collapsed, and to come and see what's wrong with her.

Harry immediately tore out of the shop and sprinted towards where he'd left Hermione and Minerva, hoping it was all a misunderstanding. His hope was crushed however, when they came into view, and saw that Hermione was laying on the ground, her head perched on Minerva's lap, while his professor was watching him approach anxiously.

"What happened?" he asked as he slid down next to his friend, noting her pale and clammy skin, and how her breathing would hitch every so often.

"I don't know," Minerva answered, looking worried. "She was just leaning on the tree one second, then collapsing the next."

Harry shook his head and easily picked Hermione up off the ground, cradling her close to his chest. "I'm going to take her to Poppy," he said hurriedly. "I don't know how to do a proper medical scan yet, so she can show me how to now. And no," he added as Minerva began to open her mouth. "I'm not Pafting her there. Not when it may have caused this in the first place…" He then turned and ran as quickly as he could, without jostling Hermione too much, up to the school and through the corridors. He leapt up the stairwells in two jumps, before hurtling through the halls again. He used his foot to open the Infirmary doors when he arrived, and thankfully Poppy was already in the Main Ward, tending to making the beds.

"She just collapsed, Poppy," he said, laying Hermione on the bed when the Matron directed him to. "I need you to show me how you do your scans as well, so, if I could watch you please?"

"Just don't interfere," she replied quickly, pulling out her wand and reciting the spell aloud for Harry's benefit. He watched her working intently, committing it all to memory, but also paying attention to the results as they showed themselves. As the scan went on, Harry couldn't help but shake his head sorrowfully. _He _was why Hermione was in such a state. It _was_ the Pafting that made her ill.

It was exactly as Hermione has said earlier. He was built for the ability … but no one else was. As he'd taken her from place to place, a significant amount of her Magical Essence had been scrambled and scattered.

Left behind.

Torn from her … and her Life Essence was trying to compensate…

Harry set his jaw and stood up straight, telling Poppy that he'd be back soon and fix what he'd done. She could only throw him a perplexed look before he'd burst into smoke and disappeared.

***

Severus sat heavily in his quarters, rubbing his eyes tiredly. They'd finally put the Dursley's in their rooms, and told them the rules they had to abide by. To say they were happy with the mild imprisonment would be saying Remus wasn't a werewolf.

There were countless times Severus had to stop himself from throttling the man that had made his sons life so horrible, while they were guiding them through the corridors. He had been watching Dursley the whole time, and the man seemed a hairs breath from a mental breakdown. He truly despised anything to do with magic.

"Don't think up too many way's to torture Dursley, Severus," said Remus, following him inside and sitting across from him. "I want to have some fun as well, you know…"

"Well, well, Lupin," Severus let the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "Do I detect a vindictive streak under all that forced calm? Will wonders never cease…"

Remus sighed and shook his head, "I still can't believe that Harry would want them kept safe? I know I wouldn't care what happened to them, especially after being treated like that for so long…"

"He told me that he didn't want to lose his only link to his Mother," said Severus, his voice quiet and contemplative. He shook his head in bewilderment. "The amount of compassion that boy can show astounds me, Remus. He accepted Black not long after meeting him … he protects those that have degraded and abused him … after the way I've treated him, he – he wants to have me as a father…"

"Of course he does, Severus," Remus replied, sitting forward more. "You saw the way he approached you in the Leaky Cauldron? He even called you Dad. I believe that Harry has come to care for you a great deal, Severus … he just doesn't know how to show it properly yet."

"It's strange," Severus muttered absently, "but, have you noticed that, all of us seemed to have rather deplorable childhoods?" He looked over at Remus, and saw the resigned acknowledgment to the statement. "You were bitten, then ostracised by not only your family, but society as well … My home was far from happy, where my mother was often the bearer of my fathers temper, myself alongside her occasionally, forced into the Dark Lord's ranks … And then there's Harry, who was orphaned, became famous in an instant, placed with relatives who abused him physically and mentally, neglecting his health and well being at every turn – only to be thrown into a world he knew nothing about, where a psychotically maniacal mass-murderer is after his head at every turn…"

"Life is cruel, Severus," said Remus, leaning back into his chair again. "I mean, look at the Weasley's, for example. Everything that they have, is all Harry's ever wanted. A family that loves and looks after him, filled with affection and a sense of belonging … yet they are painfully short on money at all times, trying to keep everything afloat. Having to make do with giving the younger ones hand-me-downs in order to save a little gold…"

Severus snorted, "I don't think they'll be having too much trouble anymore though, what with those twins with that blasted shop of theirs, making our lives more stressful. That and they've only the youngest two to school now…"

Remus only hummed in reply, closing his eyes wearily. "I wonder where Harry and the others have got to?" he asked offhandedly. "I would have thought that they'd be back here by now?"

***

"How is she, Poppy?" Minerva asked as soon as she barrelled into the Infirmary. "Has there been any change from when Harry brought her in?"

Poppy looked up gravely and shook her head, keeping the scan constant. "Her health is slowly deteriorating, Minerva," she answered quietly. "Her Magic has been severely damaged somehow, and it happened recently. Her Life Essence is trying to compensate for the sudden loss, but all it's doing is slowly killing her, unable to support her body properly…"

"Where did Harry go?" Minerva asked sadly, looking down at her student, hating to see her in such a state.

Poppy shook her head, "I don't know. After he brought her in, he asked to watch me do the scan. After some of the results came back however, he looked crushed? I don't know what it meant, but he told me he'd fix what he'd done and come back soon … the next moment, _poof_, gone."

Minerva sighed, wishing that Harry wasn't so rash all the time. It had gotten him into trouble so many times you'd think he'd learn…

"What's Hermione's condition, Poppy?"

"Well, as I said, her Magic was damaged. If I'm not mistaken, it seems to carry the feel of being torn from her forcedly? It's positively mystifying…"

Minerva sighed, slowly putting the pieces together. To be sure though, she asked for a scan to be done on her as well.

After giving her a strange look, Poppy complied and waved her wand, analysing the readings. "Minerva, you're perfectly fine," she answered, looking at her quizzically. "Why did you want to know?"

To say that the Transfiguration Professor was confused was an understatement. "There's nothing wrong with my Magic? Nothing at all?" Poppy shook her head. "I don't understand…?"

"Understand what, Minerva?" asked Poppy exasperatedly.

"Harry's Pafting," she answered. "The smoky teleport," she clarified at Poppy's raised eyebrow. "I'm sure that it was responsible for Hermione's condition, as Harry had undoubtedly thought when he went out again. Hermione had said earlier on today, after pointing out that it felt absolutely horrible to Paft, that Harry was built for it, while others weren't … and it just seemed that that really was the case. But if it's true, then why is there nothing wrong with my Magic? Harry Pafted me twice today – each time felt horrible, yes … I can't work it out…"

"We'll jut have to wait for Harry to come back, hopefully with the ability to heal Hermione," said Poppy, brushing back some sweaty hair from Hermione's forehead. "Otherwise, there's nothing I can do for her…"


	33. Interesting Things

Hey Guy's!! I told you the rush would end eventually, but I got the trickle running again, so here's the next Chapter for you all.

Remember to review please!!!

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Chapter Thirty Three: Interesting Things

Dumbledore sat up in his office, smiling as he read the letter Fawkes had delivered to him, telling him that his applicant for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position would accept. Other than Remus, Dumbledore couldn't think of a more appropriate person to teach his students. He pondered briefly over telling the other members of staff … but decided against it. It would be a surprise, for sure.

"This should prove to be a most interesting year," he muttered, smiling when Fawkes trilled at him in reply. He thought back to breakfast that morning, and chuckled slightly at Severus's effort to inform Filius and Saffron of Harry's new situation. He'd been uncharacteristically nervous to those who knew where to look, and Dumbledore thought it was most promising.

He could already see that a strange understanding had been forged between Severus and Harry, displaying itself in their strange banter with each other, and Albus couldn't be happier. They would help each other tremendously, bringing the other out from under the shells they had been forced to build from their years of hardship.

Already, Albus could tell that Severus wasn't scowling at everyone as much, nor was he wallowing and skulking around his Dungeons twenty-four hours a day. There was a shine about him that had never been there before, and it was almost always present when Harry was around.

And Harry … Albus smiled as he remembered the brilliant smile he'd had at the Head Table, when Severus had allowed him to go into London with Hermione. It had been some time since he'd seen those emerald eyes so alight with happiness. Not since the end of his fourth year…

Petting Fawkes absently, Albus stood and went to his window, staring out into the clear sky contemplatively. What were they going to do about the Dursley's? Albus hated having to keep them at Hogwarts, even if they _were_ confined to the Dungeons. There was still the chance that they would get around the House Elves, giving them a free reign until they were discovered. He hated that that chance existed, solely due to the discovery of just how appallingly Harry had been treated by them. Vernon Dursley deserved no less than to be charged with Criminal Negligence, Child Abuse, Intent to Grievously Harm Another, and Attempted Murder. But he couldn't, otherwise it would have to be revealed that he was harbouring them there.

He'd been tempted to let Severus loose on the man a number of times on the trek to their rooms … but he knew that Harry wanted them all kept safe, and wouldn't like his father to get into trouble over someone as worthless as Vernon Dursley.

A sudden movement down on the grounds brought Albus from his thoughts. It was moving quickly, he could tell, even from this height. He silently cast the Sight Enhancement on himself and looked again, feeling his stomach jolt at the sight of Harry, an unconscious Hermione in his arms, sprinting as though his life depended on it towards the castle. He was already almost at the castle, when Albus saw another figure, running rather quickly, but obviously unable to keep with such a pace. He didn't recognise this person. It was a woman, for sure, but she was dressed like a Muggle? Long grey hair was flying about behind her, and it wasn't until after she'd gotten over halfway across the grounds that Albus felt his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

"Minerva?" he said allowed, clearly hearing the surprise in his voice. He shook his head, deciding to contemplate it later, and headed immediately for the Hospital Wing.

***

"Dad do you know _anything_ about gathering someone else's Magical Essence and giving it back to them?!"

Severus shook his head and stood up from the stone floor, where he had toppled after being frightened witless by Harry Pafting right between himself and Remus. He looked over to the Werewolf and saw he was regaining his footing as well.

"Cal, I have no clue as to what you're referring to?" he answered, rubbing the back of his head, where it had met the hearth. However, it was when he turned to look at his son that he saw the panic and fear that resided in the usually stoic face. "What's wrong?"

"It's Hermione!" Harry cried, wringing his hands. "The Pafting ripped a good amount of her Magic from her, and now her body is starting to shut down because her Life Essence can't sustain her _and_ recharge her Magic!"

Severus felt a jolt in his stomach and stepped forward, grasping Harry's frantic hands in his own. "When did this happen?"

Harry licked his lips, "She just collapsed right after I Pafted us from Diagon Alley to Hogsmeade! She looked like she had a headache or something and told me that I probably shouldn't Paft anyone anymore, because I was built for it, but no one else was, and she was right about it and now she's in the Hospital Wing and it's all my fault and – "

"Whoa, Cal, stop right there," Sev interrupted, staring at Harry sternly, knowing what was running through his mind. "It's not your fault. You had no idea that the Pafting was causing any harm. All we can do is try to fix it, okay?"

Harry swallowed noisily but managed a jerky nod of his head. "Yes sir," he whispered.

Sev sighed lightly at the title, but let it slide. They had other things to worry over. "All right now," he began, stepping over to his potions cupboard. "During my extensive experiments and research while developing your genetic and magical components, I learnt quite an array of perpetual problems and limitations when it came to a persons Magical Essence, or Core if you prefer. Your Core is not actually bonded to you extremely solidly. It is there to draw on when a normal Witch or Wizard performs a spell, and your Life Essence will start to convert itself to replenish what is lost. Now, depending on both your Core and Life, it varies from person to person, as to Magical endurance and power. If you have a strong Core, with little Life, you can wield powerful spells, yet you would eventually kill yourself with exhaustion due to your Life being unable to replenish your Core, while maintaining the body. This is Miss Grangers problem, only her Core has been drained unintentionally by your Pafting, Cal. You, however, can Paft without fear, because your Core is bonded with you in every aspect of the word. Your Magic can not be stolen from you without prior knowledge or consent, and it is because you require that magic to trigger your _natural abilities._ It is irrevocably a part of you and cannot be ripped from you by accident…"

While Sev had been explaining, he'd gathered a few different potions and stuffed them into his robe pockets, before ushering them all out of his chambers and into the corridor, sealing and warding the place before heading up to the Ward.

"But, I Pafted Professor McGonagall as well!" Harry exclaimed, clearly worried that the same thing may happen to his Head of House. "She'll get sick too, won't she?"

Sev shook his head, "No she won't, Cal. Minerva's Core is bonded to her just as securely as yours is. She's an Animagus, remember? Her magic is essential to trigger the change, and must remain attached to her throughout her transformation. Only those that have supreme control over their Core's will be capable of Pafting with you, Cal. Miss Granger has not got that control as of yet, for she is too young, nor does she have an ability that would fuse her Core with her Life, as yours and Minerva's is. As is mine and Remus's. We are Magical Beings and our Core is ours. Hermione, and most of the Magical community, only have their Core lightly attached to them, allowing them to perform magic. It's what separates us from Muggles."

Sev saw Harry nod impatiently and round on him, stumbling up some stairs in the process. "But that doesn't tell me _how_ I get her Magic back?!!"

Severus sighed and shook his head, bracing himself for Harry's reaction. "You can't get it back, Cal," he said softly, hearing Remus gasp lightly from behind them. "It was separated from her, just as it would have been if she'd used it to cast a spell. It is gone forever, so all we can do, is help her body along, while she fights to replenish her Core's reserves. Once that is done, she will get better as her Life recharges itself, and is able to focus on running her body…"

Sev slowed his step and turned, for Harry had stopped walking as soon as he'd declared the situation. He looked into his sons eyes and saw through the dampness, only a deep seated pain and self loathing. The sight ignited a burning in his chest that he couldn't stand.

"So … s - she could _die_?" Remus stepped forward and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, but he shrugged it off angrily. "Don't touch me! I don't need your sympathy, I need the truth!"

"Yes, Cal," Sev answered heavily, hating the devastated dullness in Harry's eyes. "She could … but I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen. She _will_ live."

Harry drew in a shaky breath, wrapping his powerful arms around himself. "She has too…" he whispered almost inaudibly, but they still heard him due to their enhanced senses.

Sev and Remus exchanged a determined expression, before the latter declared, "We'd better get to the Infirmary…"

***

"Hey there, Ginny. Is Ron here?"

Ginny looked up from the rows of sweets in the twins store, seeing her brothers, Fred and George looking quite seriously at her. The family had taken visits to Diagon Alley much more frequently this year, mostly to look in on the twins, but today they were collecting her and Ron's school supplies. The Owls with their lists had arrived the previous morning.

"I know he came with us," Ginny answered, not bothering to dampen the bitterness in her voice. "But I think the git might be in Flourish and Blotts at the moment though. Why?"

Fred twisted his lip, "Still being difficult then, hmm?"

Ginny nodded, "I don't know what's gotten into him," she sighed. "He won't tell me anything. Not mum or dad either. I mean …" she paused for a moment, looking at her brothers imploringly, "I know that ever since that brain got him in the Department of Mysteries he hasn't been quite the same but … now he's just so closed off? He won't tell me what's bothering him, and he used to tell me almost anything! He's always sulking around the place, snapping at everyone – he even made a passing jeer about me mooning over a Deatheater! He made no sense!" She bit her lip and shook her head, trying to contain herself while both Fred and George placed a hand on each shoulder. "What on earth is wrong with him?" she whispered, putting every effort into sniffling silently.

"Don't worry over it too much Gin," said Fred soothingly, giving her shoulder a small squeeze.

"We'll sort him out right and proper," George added.

Ginny gave them a watery smile, "Thanks guys. I want the old Ron back…"

Fred just shot her an evil grin, "You just tell him to come see us the next you run into the little git, right? We'll … _talk,_ some sense into him for you…"

***

" … _Advanced Guide to Transfiguration_, check … _Standard Book of Spells: Grade Six_, check … _A Practical Guide to Defence: Advanced Level_, check … _Magical Beings: Both Fact and Fiction – _"

Ron stopped dead and glowered at the piece of parchment in his hand so intensely it may have caught fire. He held a stack of tomes in his arms already, gathering his equipment needed for the coming school year. Both his OWL results and his passing classes booklist had arrived the day before, so his mother had declared the trip for today.

Not that he'd found out about it until later that afternoon, for he'd spent the large majority of the day fuming in his room. He'd tried to keep his mind off of the revelation about Harry and _what_ he was, but his brain wouldn't let up, making him rather agitated and moody. He vaguely remembered Ginny coming up to talk with him the day he'd been brought home, but he'd been so cruel she'd stormed out in tears.

Ron had never felt so confused or conflicted in his life. He already knew he had a bit of an aversion to Non-Humans … but of late, the mild uncomfortableness had swelled into a burning hatred at the thought of them. This was, he thought, the main reason he was so cold towards Harry that day. In truth, Ron had been pained by the hurt he'd caused in Harry and Hermione, however this new part of his nature had smothered it with satisfaction at the sight. He _hated_ feeling this way!

So deep in his thoughts, Ron rounded the end of the bookcase into the next isle, and ran headlong into someone, sending both parties goods to the floor.

"I am _so_ sorry!" said Ron, hurriedly stacking any book that wasn't his. "I wasn't looking…"

"That's all right, neither was I," a soft yet stern voice answered, also bending to retrieve the fallen texts. "So, you're one of my new Sixth Years, are you?" she voiced, as Ron saw a delicate hand pick up his Sixth Year Charms book.

Ron picked up the last of the books and started to shuffle them around, sorting his books from – Hang on? He looked over at the woman as she handed his book back to him. She was shorter than him, but that was to be expected. Ron wasn't exactly short. She had silky black hair, braided and falling to her mid back, and sparkling blue eyes that he found strikingly familiar. She wasn't stunning in her looks, but he wouldn't call her ugly either. Again the feeling of familiarity struck him.

"You're going to be a Professor at Hogwarts this year?" he asked curiously.

She nodded, smiling at him while they exchanged the books they'd mixed up. "That's right. Dumbledore sent me an Owl me asking if I would like to fill the vacant position, so I accepted. I mean, my daughters starting this year too, and I'm more than qualified so, why not?"

"Are you teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts then?"

"Yep."

Ron nodded, thinking that he liked this Professor already. "Can I ask for your name? I'm Ron Weasley, by the way…"

She chuckled and held out her hand, shaking his firmly. "Pleased to meet you, Mr Weasley. I'm Jessica Hughes."


	34. Return to Ye Old

Hello there everyone!! Here's the next Chapter for you all, and I hope you enjoy it. Just a side note here: There is a part in this Chapter that refers to Harry's Firebolt. I can't remember if I'd had it burned with the rest of his gear, or if it had already been returned to him. If what I've got here doesn't coincide with what I've already said, then please tell me. I'll fix it later. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the Chapter!

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Chapter Thirty Four: Return to Ye Old…

"I hope you're going to better than our _last_ DADA professor?" Ron commented idly, walking beside Jessica while she finished getting her reference books. "She was an absolute _nightmare_, I tell you…"

Jessica laughed, "Yes, I remember reading the _Daily Prophet_, it mentioned Delores and what she was trying to do there last term. I could imagine what she was like."

"Professor Lupin was probably our best professor so far," Ron continued. "Lockhart was a fool, Quirrell ended up being possessed by You-Know-Who, and Professor Moody turned out to be a Deatheater in disguise, that everyone had thought was dead." He grinned down at the flabbergasted professor. "Quite the track record, huh?"

Jessica nodded absently, "I'll say…"

"Mum! Mum, are you finished yet? We came here yesterday, so why didn't you pick up your own gear when we got mine?"

Ron turned to the young, female voice from behind him, seeing a young girl that matched her mother in her black locks and bright blue eyes, yet her face also held a striking familiarity in its sharpness.

Jessica sighed and turned to the girl, "Lizzy, I already told you. I couldn't get my things yesterday because I only got Professor Dumbledore's Owl last night, okay? We'll go home soon, sweetie, I promise."

Lizzy sighed but nodded all the same. "Can I go to that new joke shop, mum? Pleeeaaassseee???"

"Oh, I don't know, sweetie. You know I don't like pranks that much…"

"Oh don't worry," Ron chimed in, making the pair look at him. "Fred and Georges pranks are really cool! There all pretty safe too. I should know, they used to test some of them on me!"

"You know the owners?" Lizzy gawked at him. "Wow, so, do you get discounts and stuff?"

"Lizzy!" Jessica admonished, making her daughter look appropriately scolded. "That's not very polite. Anyway, this is Ron Weasley, one of the Sixth Years."

"Hi, I'm Elizabeth, but Lizzy is easier," she held out her hand.

"As your mother said, I'm Ron Weasley," Ron grinned, shaking Lizzy's hand. "And to answer your question, yeah, I know the owners. They're my brothers."

"They are?!" Lizzy squealed, practically jumping with elation. "Can I meet them? You could take me! Mum is that okay? I promise I'll be quick, but can I meet them, please?"

Jessica was looking at her daughter rather coolly, "Lizzy, you're being very rude to this young man – "

"Oh, no!" Ron interrupted hastily. "It's fine, really. I was going to go see them after I'd got my books anyway. I'd be happy to take her over, if it's okay with you that is?"

Jessica looked a little indecisive, glancing between the both of them, but rolled her eyes and relented when Lizzy had slapped her hands together in a praying gesture and looked up at her, pleading silently.

"Oh, all right," she agreed, nearly dropping her books when Lizzy hugged her quickly. "You behave yourself, young lady, and I'll be around there after I've gotten everything to pick you up. Mr Weasley, I expect a full report on her behaviour when I next see you," she added coyly, smiling at him.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned, "Come on, Lizzy." Ron paid for his text books and stepped out of Flourish and Blotts, making sure that Lizzy was beside him all the time.

"So, what are your brothers like?" asked Lizzy, weaving through the crowd.

"Fred and George are the two biggest pranksters you'll ever meet," Ron answered, smiling down at the younger girl. "They can be serious when they have to be, but even then they could probably find something to joke about or laugh over…"

"Well … I'm glad they're still able to…" said Lizzy, suddenly a little solemn. "With the way things are going, we'll need all the laughs we can get."

Ron looked down at her, a little surprised by the statement. He hadn't expected someone so young to recognise just how bad the Wizarding Worlds situation was getting.

"You're right," he replied, so quietly that no one could hear him. "And they have Harry to thank for all of it…"

***

Dumbledore opened the large, double doors leading into the Infirmary, and hurried over to the bed where Poppy and Minerva were standing. They both looked at their wits end, drawn and weary. When he arrived at the bedside, he could see why.

Hermione was lying on the bed, pale, clammy and shivering, despite the large blanket covering her. Every breath looked like an effort, and Albus could see plainly that she was getting worse with every passing moment.

"What happened, Poppy? Minerva?" he asked them both quietly, noting how the two women looked near tears. "Where's Harry?" he added, looking around.

"He left," Minerva answered weakly. "After he brought her here, he went to see if he could find a way to heal her…"

"And what _is _wrong with her," Albus asked gently, placing a comforting hand on Minerva's shoulder, but turning the question to Poppy.

"Well, as far as we can theorise, Albus, Miss Granger's Magical Core has been severely drained rapidly, and her body is slowly shutting down, unable to support itself while replenishing her Magic…"

"How did this happen?" said Albus, looking down at one of his more favoured students.

"Well," Minerva sniffed, "we could only come up with Harry's Pafting," she replied, angrily wiping away a tear trickling down her weathered cheek. "It must have done something to her, but even that explanation doesn't make sense."

"Why not?"

"Because there's nothing wrong with me," she replied, frowning. "I've Pafted today as well, and yet Poppy's scan told her there was nothing wrong with me…"

Albus sighed, curious as to the cause behind Hermione's condition. "Poppy, what was Harry's state when he left here?"

The matron looked confused. "What do you mean, Albus?"

"His condition." said Albus. "Was he worried? Scared? Angry, what?"

"Well, I'd say he was clearly worried about her, Albus," Poppy answered, waving her wand over Hermione again, scanning. "But on top of that, I would say he was very determined. To find a way to heal her, that is." She shook her head, "I don't think I've ever seen him so resolute before…"

Albus nodded before drawing up a chair, and settling down by Hermione's bedside, doing the same for Minerva. They both sat silently for a bit, watching Poppy scan Hermione silently, when the doors swung open noisily, and Remus, Severus, and Harry (still as Callen) burst in.

"What's her condition, Poppy?!" Severus asked as he rushed over, directing Harry to sit on one of the beds near Hermione before walking over to her.

"Slowly fading, Severus," Poppy answered anxiously. "One of her lungs has already almost ceased to function, and the other isn't oxygenating her blood properly, which is why she's having trouble breathing. One of her kidney's has shut down completely and the other isn't much better. Her liver is still functioning, but for how much longer I don't know…"

Poppy continued to list all sorts of organs and chemical processes that either were or weren't working properly, before Severus nodded grimly and started taking all the potions he had in his cloak out, and placing them on the table beside them. He immediately started handing some to Poppy, while repeating his findings on Magical Core's to the other staff members.

"These potions will help her along while she recharges, mimicking the processes needed to live. Unfortunately, they will grow less effective the longer they remain in her system, so if she is still unable to support herself after the duration ceases, there is nothing we can do but hope she pulls through…"

They all sat in a stony silence, none willing to leave the Infirmary, even under Poppy's instruction.

Finally, McGonagall broke the silence, "How is it that you came across your knowledge of Magical Core's, Severus? It's a marvellous theory, to be true, but where did you discover it?"

"When he was building me," Harry replied before Sev could even open his mouth. Everyone shifted a little uncomfortably at the blunt statement, avoiding Harry's gaze. "In order for me to do what I can do, my Core had to be mine, and mine alone. Unable to be weakened or stripped by outside influence. All Magical Beings have infused Core's. It's what gives them access to their natural abilities and powers…"

"But, I'm not a Magical Being," Minerva stated bluntly.

"Yes you are," said Harry, looking up at her with dull eyes. "But only a very minor one. All Animagi are. Dad and Remus are a bit more than you though, because they have constant abilities that aren't natural to normal humans. Namely their strength and hardiness. Do you understand, Professor?"

Minerva nodded a little numbly. "I suppose that's why your Pafting had no effect on me, other than making me a little queasy for a moment, correct?"

Harry only nodded, then Shifted before them all, changing back into the Harry that everyone recognised, if not a little taller and fuller. He flicked his wrist and conjured a set of glasses for himself, then shaped his hand into a pretend pistol and motioned a pretend shot at Minerva. The next moment, her suit was transfigured back into a set of normal emerald robes, and the handbag back into her square spectacles.

Minerva looked quite surprised at the change, before noticing something a little off. "Mr Potter, I think you've forgotten something?"

Harry shot a half-hearted smile at her, as she gestured at her long hair, and shook his head. "It suits you better," he remarked, earning a stern glare from his Head of House. "Makes you look ten years younger."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Potter," McGonagall retorted, unable to keep the corners of her mouth from betraying the smile eager to show itself.

Harry let out a small laugh, before growing serious again. "Professor, will I still be able to play Quidditch this year? Or was that ban really permanent…?"

"We are still working through that, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "It's been a rather annoying chore to go through all the paperwork required to revoke the bills passed by Miss Umbridge, and as yet, the arguments for you and the Weasley twins has yet to be broached."

Harry sighed and let his shoulders fall, "Well then, what about my Firebolt? I don't recall getting it back?"

"Yes, yes … that will be returned to you, Harry, once we break the rather strong holding charms Delores put on it," Dumbledore mused. "She might not have been the strongest witch, but she knew what counted…"

They fell into another silence again, thinking about things only they knew of, before Harry suddenly snapped his eyes to Severus. "Where did you put the Dursley's, dad?" he asked a little warily.

Severus grinned for a moment, letting the word 'dad' wash over him, before registering Harry's question and answering, "Down in the Dungeons, as I said they would be. Don't worry … the chances of you running into any of them are slim to none."

"Still a chance though," said Harry, letting his gaze fall to the floor, his voice barely above that of a whisper. The very idea of seeing the Dursley's again made him shudder, bringing the thought of why he was so urgent about keeping them safe in the first place. It wasn't as though they actually gave a damn about him, so why would he care? Though, this train of thought brought up another issue he'd momentarily forgotten about.

"Dad … why didn't you tell me that you were Mr Phillips?"

Severus looked up at Harry sharply, before it fell into a rather saddened and reproachful gaze.

"I didn't see the need to," he answered quietly. "I was sent there to investigate the letter Remus sent regarding Miss Granger's and Mr Weasley's concerns for you. I won't deny that I was very irritated at first, especially after I realized where he'd tricked me into going … but I soon began to grow concerned by your lack of appearance at meals and such. Actually, I started to grow suspicious on the first day there, for I saw no visual reference that said you lived there. Believe me Harry, when I say that I was truly worried the longer I was there, with _no_ sign that you were even alive … that and your relatives seemed to not even care!" Severus shook his head, clearly feeling angered by the Dursley's actions, but sobered again at Harry's sullen expression. "It wasn't until my last day there that I discovered the little hollow under your floor. That was when I'd realised that I'd been housed in your room. After I left that night after dinner, I went around back under your Invisibility cloak. Mrs Dursley had mentioned something about a cook earlier on that night, so I stuck around. I think you know what happened afterwards…"

Harry found his hand on his left shoulder, his thumb rubbing over the scar that rested there from that night. "It's a little hard to forget, sir…" he answered softly. "Am I still to _'Run Cold'_ as such, while they are here, sir?"

"Harry I've told you! You don't have to call me 'sir'!"

"If I'm to be around the student body, either as myself or someone else, then I have to get back into the habit of calling you Sir or Professor, just like I have to get used to keeping myself running on the bare minimum without leaving myself as open as I did last night…" Harry looked away from his fathers gaze. "And we can't risk the Dursley's from finding out anything strange, just in case they _do_ find themselves in a bad situation. So … it doesn't really matter. I'll be running Cold from here on out, unless something happens…"

The power in the room lessened significantly as Harry lowered almost everything to the human norm, though his spell shielding remained, but only for the more dangerous spells. He also made sure his regeneration was still active, though not as fast as normal. He created a heartbeat and blood flow, while consciously making an effort to breathe, until it became automatic again.

"Okay … I'm as close to human as I'm going to get," he announced.

"We will still need time for you to test yourself, Harry," said Severus, a little shortly, almost as though the physical signs of Harry's true parentage kept him amiable towards the boy. Without them, he was too much like James Potter, and subject to the treatment of Old. "You will need to try and discover new powers and abilities as they emerge, and you can't do that if you're running Cold all the time."

"Well then what do you suggest, _Professor_?" Harry replied with equal shortness.

Severus sneered, "Why by reintroducing you to _remedial potions_, Mr Potter." His smirk grew wider at Harry's scowl. "At the same time, we shall be going over your Emotional Restraint, which in turn should help in your Occlumency … though your natural mind defences should be in effect already, so, we might not have a repeat of last year…"

Harry bit his lip and lowered his head, pushing the image of Sirius falling through the Veil out of his mind. He would be the first to admit that, had he put more effort into learning Occlumency, Sirius might be alive today. That and his own perverse curiosity had gotten Snape so mad with him that he'd stopped his lessons. It was the only memory he had where Snape had actually attacked him … and he was just waiting for it to happen again.

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore, in a soft yet hard voice. "The actions of the past have no use in the here and now. You would do well to remember that more often as well, my boy…"

Snape gave a very short nod to the headmaster in reply, but the coolness in his gaze didn't waiver. "Of course…"

"Professor Dumbledore, may I be excused?" Harry asked rather timidly, a far cry from the imposing figure he could be at a moments notice.

Dumbledore gazed at Harry inquisitively for a moment, before nodding in acquiesce. "You may, Harry, just don't leave the grounds."

"Thank you, sir," he answered, sliding off the bed he sat upon, and striding quickly from the Infirmary, sparing only a moment to glance sorrowfully at Hermione, before easing out the doors.


	35. The Past Repeats

Hey there!! Wow … Two chapters in one day … Not bad. Now, I can already tell that a number of you will have words to me about this chapter, but I really couldn't care. (At least not at the moment, as my Grandfather died just yesterday morning, so I needed to get some Angst in).

Please review for me!! Later!

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Chapter Thirty Five: The Past Repeats…

The sun slowly sank towards the horizon, bathing the grounds of Hogwarts in an orange and red glow. Harry had been strolling dejectedly around the base of the school since the little spate with his fath – _No, it's Professor Snape again. I have to get used to him treating me as he used to! I can't go sulking every time he treats me like that … not when it will be the norm once school starts again…_

Already, Harry hated the way he and Snape had to treat each other, solely for the benefit of the Deatheaters children that were there. It made him feel like he had nothing and no one again. Just like he had at the Dursley's. It felt like a piece of his heart had been torn away when he and Snape had traded barbs hours earlier, and he desperately wanted that piece back.

Though, the thought of Hermione, fighting for her life in the Infirmary, quickly made that desire disappear beneath the other. He knew that he'd not known of the possible dangers related to his Pafting, but that didn't ease his guilt. She was there because of something he'd done, and the possibility that she could die made the back of Harry's throat burn horribly.

"She can't die," he whispered, hearing the roughness his restrained emotions caused in his voice. "She just _can't_ …"

"Got someone else killed, did you, _freak_?"

Harry froze, a wave of fear cascading over him. He turned around and saw Uncle Vernon, glaring at him maliciously, as the wall beside him slid shut. Harry took an involuntary step backwards, memories of the weeks he'd spent at the Dursley's flashing through his mind at a blinding pace. How could he have gotten out? They were supposed to be being watched!!

"H-how did you get out?!" Harry demanded, his voice swamped with fear.

Vernon sneered, stepping towards Harry, who was rooted to the spot. "Your kind don't really take notice of their architecture, do they, freak? Why, my Dudley found that little passage purely by accident, and who should I meet when I went to see where it came out? Why, the very person responsible for me and my family being held prisoner in this _abomination_ called a school!!"

Harry couldn't move, even though every fibre of his being was telling him to run, to fetch the headmaster and tell him that Vernon had found a way out of the rooms they'd been placed in. But he couldn't. His terror bound him to the ground like a tree.

"You're trying to taint us, aren't you, freak?" Vernon hissed, stopping his advance just within arms reach of Harry. "Taint my Dudley into thinking this kind of thing is, _natural_? Well, it won't work, boy! I'm going to finish what I started, and _this_ time, you don't have someone to help you…"

With that, Vernon lurched forward and grasped Harry roughly by the neck, dragging him forcefully back to the segment of wall he'd emerged from, opening it, and throwing him inside the dim passage. Harry scrambled to his feet, but by the time he did, Vernon had already entered the passage and closed the opening.

Faster than Harry ever thought possible, Vernon stepped toward him and let a fist fly, landing solidly on Harry's jaw. Harry reeled backwards, tripping over his feet and fell to the floor heavily, sure that his jaw was at least fractured. He didn't even have time to stop his head spinning, before Vernon grasped him by his collar and started dragging him down the passage, letting out small, insane chuckles as he went.

***

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Sir?"

Dumbledore turned to look at the small House Elf that had just popped up beside his elbow.

"Yes, Dobby, what is it?"

Dobby looked nervously around the Infirmary, strangely appearing even more jittery when he glanced at Snape, who for his part looked very interested in the conversation.

"Dobby is very sorry to disturb you, Sir, but Dobby was told to report anything odd about the Muggles that Sir had brought to the Dungeons, Sir."

"That's correct, Dobby," said Dumbledore, inwardly growing a little concerned about what the excitable Elf had to tell him. "Is anything wrong with them?"

Dobby seemed ready to burst, wanting to tell them something, but he was obviously fearful of their reaction as well.

"Dobby is very – _very_ sorry, Headmaster Dumbledore, Sir!" Dobby wailed suddenly, latching onto Dumbledore's leg. "Dobby was to watch the Muggles, Sir, but Dobby was needed momentarily in the Kitchens, Sir! When Dobby returned, Sir, the big, mean Muggle with the hairy face was gone, Sir! Dobby is so very, very sorry, Sir!"

Dumbledore patted Dobby on the head reassuringly, trying to pry him from his leg. He chanced a glance at Remus, Minerva and Severus, and saw that they were all concerned about Vernon Dursley's sudden disappearance. For a fleeting moment, he was sure he saw fear flickering in Severus's eyes, but it was gone so quickly he might have imagined it.

"Not to worry, Dobby," said Dumbledore, finally getting the distraught Elf to let him go. "You did the right thing in coming to tell us of this. Thank you very much, Dobby."

Dobby's huge green eyes widened, sparkling with tears of relief. "Dobby is so happy, Sir! Dobby was thinking that Professor Dumbledore, Sir, would fire careless Dobby!"

"No, Dobby," Dumbledore replied, smiling faintly. "I wouldn't fire you. Thank you for informing me of the situation, Dobby. You may return to your normal duties."

Dobby stepped back, nodding vigorously. "Yes sir, Headmaster Dumbledore, Sir!" A sharp crack echoed through the Ward as the House Elf disappeared, leaving the four concerned adults staring at each other.

"I'll stay with Miss Granger," Minerva declared, not even needing anyone to ask the silent question. "You three find him."

The three men nodded and immediately swept out the Infirmary doors, all instinctively heading for the Dungeons.

"Albus, Harry hasn't been seen since he left earlier," said Remus, not missing the sudden stiffness in the potions masters gait. "You don't think …?" He left the question open, but the other two wizards caught on quickly.

"I do believe that is a possibility, Remus," Albus replied stonily. "We are merely confirming that suspicion."

"But, Albus," Severus started, "Surely if Mr Potter was to be cornered by Vernon Dursley, he would use his more discreet powers to help himself take leave, would he not?"

"I do not believe so, Severus," said Dumbledore gravely. "He declared he would run cold in their presence, and I believe he will hold true to that statement by the letter. He will not risk displaying anything strange to them … not even to help himself…"

"Stupid Gryffindor sentiments," the Slytherin muttered disdainfully, even if the two wizards accompanying him could clearly see and hear the worry underlying his words. "Idiot boy…"

"Keep it up, Severus, and people might start to think you cared," Remus remarked, though his disposition held no humour. "Wouldn't _that _be a shame…?"

"Shut it, Werewolf," Snape sneered. "We do what must be done in order to survive, you know that as well as I do. Harry and I must detach ourselves from each other if our roles are to remain secret. Only if a safe alternative is brought forward will I even _consider _doing anything else."

"Well then, _why_ keep spying then?" Remus shot back. "Voldemort already suspects you for defecting, so why risk going back when you have a _son_ that _needs_ you?!"

"Even if I did stop spying, Lupin, it would not help us in any fashion," said Snape. "Yes, I could stop spying, thereby allowing me to fail those imbeciles I'm forced to pass and favour, and actually be a bit fairer … but when it comes to me being more familiar with Harry Potter, it wouldn't change anything. If the Dark Lord heard of me being all _chummy_ with his sworn enemy, he would look into it. I can guarantee you that, if he sees need to put more effort into anything, he will achieve his goal. He _will_ discover Harry's Awakening, and then he will use his every means to try and get him to join his ranks as he was always meant to … even if he originally tried to destroy him."

The rest of the trip down to the Dungeons was done in an uneasy silence, with Snape and Remus throwing each other scathing looks around Dumbledore's back. Besides … it wasn't as though Snape _wanted_ to portray that he'd shut his son out. It was required for the façade to continue, no matter how much it hurt to rid himself of the familiarity that had recently sprung up between himself and Harry. He'd hated the way he'd be forced to treat Harry from here on out, knowing that he was his son, yet still treating him like the scum of the earth.

__

'I treat him the same way the Dursley's did, only without the beatings…' he thought suddenly, feeling almost a physical pain stab at his heart with the thought. He had, in the years passed, always put down, insulted, accused, singled out, embarrassed and degraded his son, believing it acceptable because of the way James Potter had treated him during school, and resented him for his mistaken belief about the Golden Boy's home life.

__

'He's always been reasonably quiet … never down right rude unless he was very angry … I should have noticed the way he was treated at home during our Occlumency lessons last year, but I was too busy making the boy feel like he was useless at everything! And now you practically accused him of being the sole proprietor behind his Godfather's death, insinuating that his failure at Occlumency was the reason … yeah … great_ father you are, Severus…_

It was then that Snape realized that they'd been walking through the Dungeons for some time, as they were very close to the Dursley's residence. As they grew nearer the corridor leading to them however, both he and Lupin slowed, their hearing picking up on loud noises drifting toward them.

"What do you suppose it is, Severus?" Remus asked.

Snape shook his head, feeling a ball of dread make his stomach heavy. "I do not know, Lupin, but I suggest we find out quickly."

They hurried to the corner, where Dumbledore had been waiting for them, and peeked around the edge. Seeing nothing they rounded it, heading for the door that one of the House Elves seemed to be cowering beside.

A loud crash suddenly punctured the still air of the Dungeons, spurring the three wizards forward at a run. Severus got to the door first, and spared the Elf only a passing glance before turning toward the (supposedly) locked door.

Remus and Dumbledore arrived a second later, and both bent toward the shivering Elf.

"Milly?" said Dumbledore, kneeling beside the creature. "Milly, I need to know what happened?" he asked gently.

Milly looked up slowly, tears streaming from her eyes, one of which looked an ugly purple, clearly having been struck. Remus gasped, but Dumbledore studiously avoided reaction.

"Milly was doing as Milly was told, Professorhead sir, and was keeping an eye on the Muggles, sir. Milly was outside, and Dobby was keeping eyes inside sir … but then Milly was hearing very bad things insides sir, so Milly went to look…" the Elf paused for a moment, wiping her eyes and narrow nose with her tea towel-like toga. "Milly saws the very big and mean Muggle with Mr Harry Potter sir, and he was being hitted by the mean man, sir! Milly tried to helps him sir, but the big Muggle boy kicked Milly, sir…" Milly hung her head, turning away from the angry faces that were staring at her. "Milly wanted to help, sirs, but the big Muggle boy kept trying to kicks me, and I came out here … I is sorry sirs…"

"Do not be sorry, Milly," Dumbledore reassured the distraught Elf, patting her back lightly. "You did your best. Please go to Madame Pomfrey in the Infirmary and have that looked at," he ordered gently, pointing at the swollen eye.

"Yes sir, Professorhead, sir," said Milly sadly, her ears drooping to her back before the loud crack accompanied her vanishing.

"Open this door, Severus," said Dumbledore, his voice like steel. "The more impressively the better…"

Severus, for his part, was looking near murderous, and dutifully obliged. He stepped back from the door and seemed to brace himself, when another sound from inside the room chilled them to the core. It was a scream of painful magnitude … and it was most recognisably Harry's. The scream was suddenly cut off, leaving a heavy silence … but that ended when Severus darted forward determinedly, colliding with the oaken door with such a force it was ripped from its hinges.


	36. A Parents Heartache

Back again guy's!! Wow, I sure got some reviews for those last couple of chapters … mainly people telling me how evil I am for leaving such a cliffy. Well … I'll just prepare for the influx _this_ chapter is going to cause…(hint hint).

Okay … After this Chapter, I've no idea how long it will be until my next post, as I'll be heading every which way during Xmas/New year so, don't worry if there's a long wait. That being said, there could even be another post only a couple of days after this one, but don't hold your breath. It all depends on how the Muses are working.

Don't forget to review for me please!!

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Chapter Thirty Six: A Parents Heartache

The door flew inwards, crashing into furniture as it hurled across the room, before smashing into the wall opposite. A shrill scream was clearly heard over the sound of splintering wood, along with confused and fearful shouting.

Severus darted into the room and set his eyes immediately to search for his son. To his left stood Petunia Dursley, cowering over near the fireplace, her arms over her head for protection from flying projectiles. He ignored her. A strangled bellow made Snape whip around, only to feel himself freeze, a chilling horror sweeping through him, stilling his heart, as he saw what lay before him.

Dudley Dursley stood next to a smashed table, holding one of the broken legs like a club. What remained of their dinner lay strewn across the floor. But it was what lay just beside him that made Snape inhale sharply.

Vernon Dursley was kneeling next to a prone Harry, a bloodied steak knife hovering just over his chest. Harry was gasping for breath, clutching at the wounding on his torso. He'd been stabbed more than once. Snape felt something inside him snap and let loose a bellow of insane fury. Before he knew it, he'd thrown himself at the man, only to stop dead when Vernon pulled Harry's head back and set the knife at his throat.

"You bloody bastard!" Snape growled, feeling Remus and Dumbledore walk up beside him. "He may have saved your lives by bringing you here, and you try and kill him for it!"

Vernon only grinned maliciously at them, pressing the blade into Harry's neck harder. "He may have," he answered, "It's not as though we asked him to do it though, is it?"

Snape blanched at the statement, realizing that that was his original thought when Harry had taken the bullet meant for him. Had he really been as cruel as these beasts had to the boy? So selfish as to not see the nobility of the act?

__

"I won't die, dad," Harry's voice said in his head, making him glance down into the eyes full of pain. _"I'll just make it look as though I have. We'll use Hermione's idea, so then I can be your son in name and body…"_

Snape was having an inner battle. He knew now that Harry was in no danger of dieing, but the pain was real. That he could see. He hated seeing the condition Harry was in, reminding him so forcefully of the night he'd delivered him from these very people … the night that everything had changed…

"Don't do anything rash now, Mr Dursley," Dumbledore's voice interrupted his musings. "Think of the consequences if you follow through with this…"

Vernon sneered at them, "Does it really matter? Either way, I'll be rid of this piece of filth forever, so any punishment would be worth it…"

"He's your nephew!" Remus exclaimed, appalled at Vernon's declaration.

"Not mine," Vernon growled, tugging Harry's head back a little more, making him gasp lightly as the pressure on his neck increased again. "He's not my blood, so why should I care?"

__

"Charge him, dad … he'll do it then, and we'll deal with the rest later. Just don't kill him…"

"One less freak to deal with," Vernon sneered, looking down at Harry with unhidden glee as he tightened his grip on the knife.

"NO!!" Snape bellowed, dashing forward just as Harry told him, unable to break the eye contact with his son as Vernon immediately drew the sharp blade across the soft flesh below his jaw. He saw Harry's eyes cloud over with pain, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the wound poured forth a crimson flow, spilling over the pale skin and pooling on the stone floor beneath him.

So intent on Vernon, Snape failed to see Dudley swing the piece of wood he held at his head, only registering the fact after he felt his head explode with pain, reeling backwards with the force of the blow.

He heard two faint voices shout out "_Expelliarmus!_" and "_Stupefy!_" before regaining his senses and picking himself up off the floor, feeling something warm trickle down the side of this face. He ignored the feeling, only focused on getting over to Harry. He saw Remus and Albus tie the two men up with conjured ropes, but he didn't care about that. 

Feeling somewhat unsteady on his feet, Snape scrambled over to Harry, feeling his throat constrict at the sight of him, even though he'd been told by his son that he would be fine. He looked dead to him, and his currently scrambled mind could think of nothing else.

"Harry?" he choked out, trying to not look at the bruising and blood caking him. He gingerly reached out a hand and brushed his fingers over Harry's cheek, flinching at how cold he felt. "Harry?" he repeated, inexplicably feeling his chin quiver when he still had no response. He felt his eyes burn terribly and bit his lip, taking deep and shuddering breaths…

__

"Ouch…" a voice Snape recognised as Harry's echoed faintly in his mind. _"That stung…"_

Severus felt the dam burst at the weak voice in his head, and impulsively gathered Harry's limp body in his arms, pressing the boys head to his chest as his arms enfolded him. For the first time in years, Severus felt hot tears splash down his cheeks, rocking back and forth as he wept with undiluted relief.

He felt a hand on each shoulder and looked up briefly at the two persons that were gazing down at him. A part of him felt incredibly shamed, sitting there, bawling like a child in front of his Mentor and old school enemy … yet another couldn't care. Harry was alive and that was all that mattered. Severus quickly surmised that Harry must have told both Remus and Albus of his intended plan already, for they to were playing along and looking crushed … even though the pain on their faces was most likely forged from the boy's bodily condition. He felt Remus kneel down beside him, looking over his shoulder.

"Keep it up, Severus, and people might think you cared," he whispered, though his tone was no longer sharp, but warm and accepting. "Wouldn't that be a shame…?"

***

Later on that night, Harry had been laid out on one of the Hospital beds, hidden behind the screens. Although those present in the Infirmary knew that Harry was most certainly alive, the sight of him was decidedly unnerving. The Dursley's had been bound in one of the more secure areas of the Dungeons, and now the staff were just waiting on the Minister, along with medical examiners from St Mungo's, summoned to study Harry's body.

To say that Fudge had been disbelieving of Harry's supposed death was a blatant understatement. It wasn't until Severus had suggested that he actually come and see the body that the Minister began to sober.

Minerva had practically had a stroke when the group had burst through the Infirmary doors, and she caught sight of Harry's physical condition. She'd been beside herself with panic, demanding what had happened to her student, and almost fainting when she'd heard Harry tell them all in their minds that he was fine … just a bit stuck.

A little after eight o'clock that night, the Minister and Healers had arrived, and Poppy solemnly lead them all behind the curtains. While they were in there, Tonks and Kingsley Shackbolt arrived on pretence of escorting the Dursley's to a secure facility, but were actually there as Members of the Order who'd heard about Harry's supposed death through the grapevine.

"Albus, this is disastrous!" Fudge exclaimed in a panic, darting from the enclosed area, the two Healers following him, looking almost crushed. "How on earth could he be careless enough to let _Muggles_ murder him, when even You-Know-Who couldn't?!" Fudge failed to notice the looks of disgust thrown at him from all directions. "This is a political nightmare! He can't be dead, it's just not possible!"

"I assure you, Minister," one of the Healers spat, "The body on that bed most assuredly makes it possible. Harry Potter is _dead_."

The other Healer turned to Dumbledore, apparently holding back her tears, trying to remain professional. "Headmaster, shall we begin the arrangements for Mr Potter's burial?"

Dumbledore smiled at the young lady sadly, "It would be most appreciated, thank you. Might I request that Mr Potter's body be held here, though, until the proceedings have been finalized? It would give those of us closest to him the chance to say farewell, before the public ceremony…"

"Of course, Headmaster," the young male Healer replied. "We understand completely. We will return to retrieve Mr Potter on the eve of his ceremony, if that is alright with you?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That is fine, thank you. We shall keep his body in stasis to preserve it, while you make the proper arrangements. Don't worry about cleaning him up or preparing him. We'll take care of that ourselves."

"As you wish, Headmaster," the man replied, bowing slightly. "We'll notify you once a date has been settled. We'll take our leave now, Headmaster, and may we give you our deepest condolences."

Albus merely nodded at the two Healers, before getting Remus to show them to the Apparition border, leaving Fudge with them, looking almost at a loss. Severus, was thankful that they'd thought to draw the curtains around Hermione's bed before the Minister had arrived. They didn't need queries into how the young witch had gotten into her condition, nor why she was at the school in the first place.

"This can't be happening," Fudge murmured, looking dazed. "What will the population do? Everyone thought of Potter as – "

"A raving lunatic and someone to ridicule, no thanks to your ridiculous propaganda last year!" Snape cut in, seething at the Minister. "He spent most of last year being shunned by the public that had fawned over him a moment beforehand, only to be returned to the spotlight on a positive note, after watching his Godfather die right in front of him. You only believed his story after seeing the Dark Lord with your own eyes!"

Fudge puffed himself up, drawing himself to his full height, (which was all of five foot four) and glared at the potions master. "I do _not_ need the approval of a Deatheater, no matter how reformed Dumbledore thinks of you! And why do you suddenly care? You despised that boy like no other!"

Snape took a threatening step forward, snarling venomously at the portly man. "I just watched as that boy was _stabbed _to death by the people he had been _living _with for the past fifteen years! His own Uncle, _slit – _ _his – _ _throat_! Don't you think that equates to _some_ form of feeling on the boys behalf?"

"No worse than you'd have seen or done before though – "

"That's enough, Cornelius," said Dumbledore sharply, placing a settling hand on Severus's shoulder at the same time, preventing the man from leaping at the Minister. "Severus need not answer to anyone any longer, and you know it. What we _do_ need to focus on however, are the punishments for the Dursley's, and their active participation in Harry's murder."

"Yes, why were they here in the first place, Albus?" Cornelius asked huffily. "The boy, to? Was there an actual reason for it, or were you just playing favourites?"

"Absolutely _no respect_ for the dead!" Madame Pomfrey hissed, turning red with checked fury. "You speak as though it was _Harry's_ fault he was killed!"

"Well it probably was, knowing him," Fudge remarked rather offhandedly. "Probably provoked that Muggle beyond endurance? He was certainly pig headed enough…"

Fudge trailed off when Snape stepped forward and fisted his collar in his hand, leaning down to eye level, leaving only an inch or two between their noses.

"I'm going to give you ten seconds to apologise for that remark, leave, and prepare for the Dursley's trial, or you shall experience the euphoric sensation of flying from this building without a broom…"

Fudge looked at Snape as though he was off his rocker, before throwing a desperate glance at Kingsley, who was curiously twiddling his thumbs.

"Shackbolt! You're the Head Auror, restrain this idiot!"

Kingsley looked around at the Minister, appearing as though he'd just noticed him. "I beg your pardon Minister, but, what seems to be the problem?"

Fudge glared at the Auror, who was still looking quite clueless. "He's threatening to kill me, Shackbolt! Arrest him!"

Kingsley, furrowed his brow, looked at Snape, then stuck his pinkie in his ear and wriggled it forcedly, removed it and calmly said, "I apologise, Sir, but I must have missed it. Nothing I can do."

Fudge looked apoplectic, but his face switched to terrified when Snape started to drag him towards the Infirmary windows.

__

"Dad, you're such a meanie," Harry's amused voice scolded humorously in Severus's mind. _"No need to make the spineless Git any greyer than he is already."_

__

'You did hear what he just said about you, don't you?' Severus replied angrily, now opening a window slowly. _'He just blamed you for provoking that monstrosity of a Muggle into harming you!'_

There was a pause in which Snape merely raised an eyebrow at the trembling Minister. "Last chance," he said smoothly.

__

"At least I'll know what the rest of the world really_ thought of me,"_ Harry mentioned, a fragment of sadness seeping through, making Severus soften considerably on the inside. _"How many people get _that _chance, huh?"_

__

'Only ever you, son,' Severus replied, sighing and slamming the window shut, tossing Fudge roughly to the side. "You're too pathetic, Fudge," he snarled. "Not even worth the effort of throwing you out…"

Fudge spluttered incoherently as he staggered to his feet, trying to regain whatever composure he'd had to start with. He marched up to Snape, his face full of malice increased two-fold when Snape smirked at him, then poked the Slytherin in the chest.

"How _dare_ you treat the Minister of Magic in such a manner!" he bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. "You have the same disrespect of Authority as that miserable whelp of a boy did!!!"

"And to reiterate what said boy announced most satisfyingly: I give respect where it is due, Fudge. That does not include you…" Snape declared quite smugly, feeling himself smirk when he heard Harry chuckle at him in his head.

"Cornelius, I recommend that you take your leave while you can," said Dumbledore politely. "We've had a most trying evening and it is taking it's toll on all of us. I eagerly await any information regarding the Dursley family's incarceration. Good Evening, Cornelius." Albus then promptly ignored the Minister and turned to Kingsley and Tonks. "I would very much appreciate it if you would remove the Dursley's from the Dungeons now, Kingsley, Tonks. Infestation is not something I am entirely fond of … so, if you would remove it for me? Thank you."

The two Aurors nodded, looking most pissed, before striding quickly from the Infirmary.

__

"Dad, what's Fudge doing in here with me?" Harry asked suddenly, making Severus whirl towards the bed his son lay. Sure enough, the Minister was hovering over the boy, the curtains open and – his wand out? _"Wait a minute…? Shit! Dad that's not Fudge!"_

__

'What?' Severus asked back, surprised, yet a deeper part of him grew fearful. Harry was hardly ever wrong with his instincts, especially after his Awakening. Before he could say anything though, he saw Fudge shift and change in much the same manner that Harry was capable of, revealing someone he thought was already locked away in a high security cell.

"Oh god," he breathed, fumbling for his wand as he saw the person before him grin back at him, his arm already raised toward Harry.

"Tut, tut, Severus," Lucius Malfoy sneered, his voice startling Remus and Albus, announcing his presence. "You've grown careless. You should have remembered what our Lord gave me. Of course, the luck of having our esteemed Wormtail held in the cell beside mine, relaying everything he saw in Potter the morning he captured him … well … to say that this will be most rewarding would be an understatement…"

Severus cursed at his forgetfulness. He'd forgotten that Malfoy and Wormtail had been of the very few that had survived the testing phase of the Avatars powers. Malfoy had received the ability to Shift and the strange night vision, while Wormtail had only been granted the test of seeing the Magical Essence of everything. This was bad!

"I wonder just how far along our young Avatar has developed?" Malfoy continued, ignoring Dumbledore and Remus, focusing only on Severus. "Another part of me wonders who exactly fathered him? I guess we'll never know…" He grinned again, his grey eyes glinting. "After all … you can't kill someone who's already dead now, can you?"

Severus immediately drew his wand, feeling Albus and Remus do the same. He heard Harry start to say something in his mind, but it was cut off before the first word could form. Before he could even raise his wand to the blonde, he had turned back to face Harry, bellowing those two, heart stopping words.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!!!_"


	37. The Transition

Hey there everyone!! Sorry about the wait, but as I said, things are a little hectic around here at the moment. I noticed a lot of you were confused at the end of the last chapter, concerning who'd thrown the Avada Kadavra. Sorry to have confused you, but it's just the way I word things sometimes, forgetting that I know who I'm talking about all the time, but most others need the clarification. To put that to rest, it was Lucius that actually cast the curse. They way I'd worded it just made it sound like any of them could have cast it at someone. Sorry about that.

Anyway … here's your next chapter! I hope you like it. I know I liked writing it, so tell me if there's something wrong or if something doesn't make sense. I've realized that the latter is more frequent … hehehe. Please review!!

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Chapter Thirty Seven: The Transition

A brilliant flash of green light filled the room, causing all to be momentarily blinded, looking away and shielding their eyes. Severus heard himself shout a strangled plea, only to feel surprise when he heard a crackling sound right before the flash intensified, then faded, a muffled thump echoing through the Infirmary.

He opened his eyes, blinking away the white dots, and focused on the bed in the corner. Harry was still laying prone, motionless on the bed, and for a fleeting moment Severus thought the curse had done it's job … until his eyes caught sight of the crumpled form strewn at the base of Harry's bed.

Impulsively, Severus took a step forward, only to stop when Harry's voice announced hoarsely, _"Don't bother, Dad. He's dead. I kept the shield for the _Avada _up … Looks like it was a good thing…"_

__

'That doesn't explain how he got out of Azkaban, nor how he came to impersonate the Minister of Magic?' Severus sent back pointedly.

__

"He's probably dead," Harry answered as Severus walked over to Malfoy. _"I doubt Lucius Malfoy would keep someone like Fudge alive once he served his due…"_

__

'I think I'd agree with that,' Sev finished, staring down at the face of his childhood associate emotionlessly. "I think we've just added another person for Shackbolt to catalogue?"

"Forget about Malfoy, Snape!" Remus snapped, darting towards them. "You'd think that you'd worry about Harry's welfare first off, wouldn't you?"

"No need to worry, Lupin," Remus stopped at Sev's words. "I assure you, he's alive and kicking under there." Severus bent down and plucked Lucius's wand from his fingers, avoiding looking at the mans face, knowing he'd see the cold gaze from his lifeless eyes. "Albus, someone has to find out if Fudge is still alive or not. Check at his home, his office, anywhere he may favour. It is most likely that Lucius has killed him, but we need to be sure. This switch happened far too quickly for my liking."

By the time morning arrived, it had been discovered that Fudge was actually still alive, found Stupefied and bound in his manor. Tonks and Kingsley returned to remove Malfoy's body, asking no questions as to how it got there. Also, a reporter from the _Prophet_ had come and gone, collecting all the details regarding Harry's murder, with the promise that the report would be very tactful. Of course, Severus threatening to disembowel said reporter could have had some sway over that agreement.

Harry had told them not to bother about cleaning him up and placing glamour's over his wounds. He did it himself, now appearing as though he was only sleeping. McGonagall was keeping vigil over Hermione, who was slowly showing signs of improvement now, while Severus remained by Harry's bedside, trying to remain awake for the night to keep Harry company, knowing that he needn't sleep at all.

__

'You know, you really need to get back into the habit of sleeping, Harry,' Sev grumbled sleepily, scowling at the beams of morning sunlight streaming into the Infirmary.

__

"What for? I'm already dead. I won't need to fall asleep until I come out of hiding as Callen Snape."

"That's true," Sev mumbled to himself, knowing that Harry would have heard him. Minerva was the only other conscious person in the ward, and he knew that she'd know who he was talking to if she heard him. "So … are you going to reintroduce yourself as a Sixth Year, or are you going to be a twenty-something year old?"

__

"What? I couldn't do that! What about finishing school?" came Harry's incredulous reply, making Severus smile amusedly.

"Harry think about it," said Sev, keeping his voice to a low whisper. "You no longer need schooling, and trying to keep up your façade around the other students will be difficult. Anything you feel you need to learn, I'm sure you can be shown a few times in the other staff's spare time, but other than things like that, you require no more schooling. You can be my Potions Apprentice for a cover, seeing as you've already used it in front of Percy Weasley and the _real_ Minister."

There was a long pause, and Severus was beginning to think that Harry wouldn't answer until, _"But, if I was your Apprentice, I couldn't be your son. I'd be too old…"_ Sev could hear the sadness in his voice as he spoke.

"How old do you think I am, Harry?" Sev asked, curious yet wondering how accurate the students guesses were as well.

__

"Err … I'm not sure. Mid forties maybe?" came Harry's hesitant reply.

Severus raised his eyebrows, surprised at how close the guess was. "I'm impressed, Harry. You're actually very near correct. I am actually forty one. So you see, you could still pass as my son, if you were to be my Apprentice. You look all of twenty five at the very oldest, but you can pass as someone of around twenty two, twenty three, without any effort, making me your father at around eighteen, nineteen. Very plausible."

__

"Plus, it would remove me from the Avatar's age group. No one would be suspicious about it," Harry added, sounding rather excited. _"It's a good idea … but Dumbledore needs to approve of it first. I can't just skip two years of study like that … plus Hermione would spit fire at me if I did."_

Sev cocked an eyebrow, "So your decision resides on Miss Granger's reaction, does it?"

Whatever Harry was going to say in response to his question, was cut off by loud voices approaching the Infirmary, followed by the sound of the double doors slamming open.

"I will not believe it until I see it for myself, Albus!" Cornelius Fudges voice echoed angrily, making Severus scowl … at least until he heard Harry growl in his head. Schooling the smirk off his face, Severus turned to the small gap in the partition, awaiting the Ministers ultimate arrival. "It just can't be true!" The curtains were wrenched open, and Fudge froze at seeing Severus standing there.

"Not true like the Dark Lords rebirth, hmm Fudge?" Severus sneered, stepping forward into the portly mans personal space, forcing him back, away from Harry's form. "I may be wrong, but I'm quite sure that in this instance, I am not the only person that wishes Lucius had killed you before he died. We'd be better for it without you, you pompous, pig-headed, vile excuse of a human being!"

Fudge could only blink at Severus's tirade, his mouth hanging open stupidly. Dumbledore looked at the ceiling, seeming to have gone temporarily deaf, while Minerva and Remus scowled at the Minister.

"How _dare_ you – "

"As you can plainly see, Fudge," Severus cut in sharply, "Mr Potter has indeed left the world of the living. I don't expect he shall be forging false rumours about long dead Dark Wizards to destabilize all your _hard work_ … for quite some time."

__

"Real smooth there, Dad. You handled that with such profound grace and cordiality that you've done me proud…" Harry deadpanned, making Severus cough loudly to hide his snickering, drawing strange looks from Remus and Minerva.

Fudge was looking down at Harry's body almost emotionlessly, bordering on scepticism. "And just how am I to know that this is really Potter?" he asked crisply, turning to face the dark looks Severus was throwing his way. Dumbledore still remained calm. "For all I know, this could be one of his tricks to run from You-Know-Who…"

"If you would forgive my shortness, _Minister_," said Severus coolly, "but, you have no idea what you're talking about. In all the years that Mr Potter has gone looking for trouble, I for once, can never say that he ever _ran_. Why, not but just over a month ago, Mr Potter stood face to face with the Dark Lord for the _forth time_. I assure you, Fudge, that he would never run."

"And I don't see how you can accuse Harry of trying to hide by faking his death anyway, Cornelius," Albus spoke up, his tone hard and bore warning. "If you want proof, I can go and fetch my Pensive and _show_ you what happened with Harry's Muggle relatives. I was there, as was Severus and Remus. We all saw it…"

"Anyway, you can't do much about it, as two Healers from Saint Mungo's have already confirmed Mr Potter's cause of death and identity," Minerva spoke up sharply, her hard eyes bearing down on the Minister. "That, and a reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ has already come by and is writing a report for this mornings paper, which should be arriving in most of the Wizarding Worlds homes in about two hours."

If the situation weren't so dire, Severus would have smiled at the apoplectic expression on Fudges face, making his head look like a plum, what with the lovely shade of purple he seemed to be turning. The man finally saw sense and believed their story about Harry's demise, and left quickly to co-ordinate the funeral efforts with the two Healers from St Mungo's.

__

"He was cheery, wasn't he?" Harry commented idly to everyone after the plump man had left the Infirmary.

***

It wasn't until two days later that Hermione had regained enough strength to wake up, only to hear about what had happened while she was unconscious. She was told that Harry was still alive, and found out that the public funeral was to take place at the end of the week. Two days away. Remus had left for his home the day before, in preparation for the full moons arrival, and the only other creatures that were coming and going at a hellish rate, were the Owls that had inundated the Headmasters office, ever since the report about Harry's death had come out.

The only exceptions to this were the Weasley's. The very day the _Prophet_ had come out with the front page story of Harry's death, every single one of them (save Ron and Percy) had marched up to Dumbledore's office and demanded what was going on. Fred and George were the calmest of the group, but even though they knew about Harry, they were still worried for him.

Reluctantly, Dumbledore had led them down to the Infirmary, where Mr and Mrs Weasley were temporarily distracted by Hermione, before being drawn back to Harry's bed, where he lay prone, clean and dressed, ready for his funeral in a few days. It had been a hard meeting, for those who knew that Harry was alive, to witness. Mrs Weasley was sitting in the chair by Harry, weeping loudly, clinging to his cold hand as though it was a lifeline. She rocked back and forth, leaning into the embrace her husband gave her, tears streaming silently down his cheeks also. Ginny had clung to George fiercely, her head buried in his neck as he tried to console her while Fred got the real story from Severus, standing in the background.

By mid-afternoon, Dumbledore and Severus had managed to send the Weasley's back home, telling them that they could say a proper goodbye at Harry's funeral. After waking, Hermione had kept Harry company, letting Severus go about his duties for a while, even though the man would return to Harry's side every night without fail.

__

"Dad, I'll be fine," Harry had said at around midnight on the eve of his funeral. _"You _need _to sleep, unlike me. I can keep myself occupied by running through my abilities mentally and such. I'm pretty sure that some have gotten better while I've been holed up here, and I might even be starting a couple of new ones. Go. To. Sleep."_

Jerking awake at Harry's voice, Severus had reluctantly agreed and went to his chambers, but not before doing something he'd never done before, leaning down and gently kissing Harry on the forehead.

"After tomorrow I get to claim you, Callen. No more hiding…" he'd whispered, gently brushing his hand over Harry's unruly hair. "Goodnight, son." As Severus had slowly closed the door to the Ward, he smiled at Harry's soft response.

__

"Goodnight, Dad."

***

"Here Hermione," Fred whispered urgently in her ear, as they all lingered and mingled just before Harry's funeral was due to start. Hermione had been released from the Infirmary that very morning, and was due to have check ups with Madame Pomfrey every day for the next week. As it is, she was a little pale and tired easily, but she wouldn't have missed this for the world. Fred tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped in surprise, before feeling something pressed into her hand.

"What's this?" she hissed back, looking at the small square candy.

"Brand new," said George, looking around the huge crowd gathered on the Quidditch Pitch with them, trying to not look shifty. "They're called 'Tender Tearjerkers' and this gave us the idea. I mean … we know the truth, but as Harry's buds, it would look weird if we didn't get all teary now, wouldn't it? Hence, these little beauties. Great idea, huh?"

Hermione smiled briefly, also casting a searching eye across the masses. "Fred, George … I will _never_ denounce your brilliant minds again."

"Aw, did you hear that, George?" said Fred, wiping away a nonexistent tear. "Our Hermione just called us _brilliant_… I feel so special…"

George sniffled back and nodded, resting his head on his twins shoulder, "Indeed she did, Fred. I'm so happy I could cry…"

Hermione only shook her head at them, thanked them for the 'Tearjerker', then went off to find someone she'd been looking for all morning. He had to be there, she knew he would. There was no way that he wouldn't come, even if he did realize that Harry wouldn't be dead. Some of her schoolmates had sought her out to offer their condolences, but Hermione only half noticed, paying enough attention to acknowledge them before moving along. As the starting music began, Hermione felt a painful jolt of realization, making it unnecessary for her to take Fred and Georges little gift. As Hermione went to take her seat, her tears pooled and fell unchecked … but no one knew the reason save for one.

Just before Hermione reached her seat, she felt a hand settle softly on her shoulder, turning her around gently. Trying to look a little more presentable, she sniffled and wiped at her face, but a strong hand covered hers, halting her efforts.

"He's not here, Miss Granger," Snape's smooth voice stated gently, almost sounding disappointed at the fact. "I know you wanted him to come, as did Harry … but I've just come from the Weasley's. He refused to come with them, even after those twins had a word with him. To say that they are upset with him would be quite the understatement, I'm afraid. I'm sorry."

Hermione was a little surprised at how nice Snape was being, even though she'd seen him with Harry those few times. It would take some getting used to, that was for sure. But besides that fact, Hermione felt a swell of appreciation for him, telling her what she'd wanted to know, even though it had upset her to hear it. She hesitantly let a watery smile grace her face, nodding her thanks at the sourly Potions Master, before bowing her head and resuming the short journey to her seat.

The service went by in a large blur for Hermione, barely registering the different speeches made about Harry and his efforts against the Dark Lord. The coffin was sitting on some kind of shrine, surrounded with useless flowers and trinkets that meant nothing to her friend. It was made of a dark mahogany, with gold inlays throughout it. Ridiculously expensive for something that's only heading six feet under, in Hermione's opinion. She looked around the mass of people, scrutinising all of them with a critical eye. Only the few people, who she knew personally, that had known Harry well through school, were weeping for him. All but two of the Weasley's were present, and all of them were wiping at their eyes regularly. The few teachers that had grown close to Harry were also trying not to cry. Hagrid for example was howling as though he'd lost his own leg.

It greatly vexed Hermione that the large majority of the crowd seemed unaffected at all, almost seeming bored by the formal proceedings. And if they weren't yawning, they looked exceedingly fearful, thinking that their hero was dead, so where did that leave them simple folk against the Dark Forces rising against them? Stuck with the Ministry as their guards, she thought with a quiet snort of disgust. She knew for a fact that a large amount of the Ministry wouldn't be able to find the exit to a one door room with the lights on if their lives depended on it. Useless bunch of bureaucrats…

__

"Couldn't agree with you more, 'Mione," Harry's voice broke into her thoughts, making her jump rather suddenly, drawing a few confused and disapproving looks. _"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you like that."_

__

'Merlin, Harry! Don't do that. You should give some kind of warning before jumping into someone's head like that.'

"I didn't mean to, 'Mione," Harry whined childishly, making a most inappropriate chortle build in Hermione's throat. _"Anyway, I'm agreeing with the wide mouths out there. This is really boring."_

Hermione coughed quietly, covering her chuckle, _'This is your funeral, Harry. It's not supposed to be as exciting as your life, you know. Anyway … I thought you'd be upset with all those idiots that don't give a damn whether you'd lived or not?'_

"Nah," Harry answered blandly. _"At least now I know that I wasn't appreciated or overly worshiped by them. Besides … it's not everyday that someone gets to witness there own funeral…"_

Hermione had to agree with that point. But still … to know that almost everyone had pretended to respect you must have cut Harry in some way. She didn't see how it couldn't.

__

"Ouch … That stung…" suddenly popped into Hermione's mind, making her frown.

__

'What's wrong?'

__

"I just ripped my pinkie off. Now I know what Wormtail felt like when he did this."

Hermione was stunned. Harry had just removed one of his fingers! _'What the hell did you do that for???'_ she hissed at him.

__

"Don't worry. It's already growing back. I just needed to have a piece of me still in here when I light it. That way, if someone wants to check if I was in here, my signature will still show. Get it?"

Hermione was growing anxious at Harry's words. What was he planning to do? _'Harry, what do you mean, "When you light it"? Light what?'_

There was a pause. _"The coffin, 'Mione. What else would I light?"_

__

'WHAT?!!'

"I won't be in it at the time, Hermione! Jheez, I'm not that stupid…" Harry made Hermione know that he'd just rolled his eyes mentally. She didn't know that someone could even _do_ that, and still project it telepathically. _"Time for the fireworks. And remember, 'Mione … From now on, call me Callen…"_

Hermione didn't even have enough time to process Harry's words, when all of a sudden Harry's coffin erupted in a huge ball of fire, hot enough to melt the gold, and turn everything into ash. Even the dais the coffin was sitting on was crumbling with the heat. Almost everyone in the front quarter of the seating arrangements had leapt to their feet and fled to the back, terrified by the sudden eruption. Only Hermione remained near her seat, though she was now standing as near as the heat allowed.

She felt someone stand beside her, and she looked up to see Professor Snape, staring into the flames as though hypnotised. Some of the more experienced wizards had rushed forward, attempting to put the fire out with water from their wands, but all it did was fuel the flames, making them more intense than before.

"Ere goes Harry Potter," she heard the dark man mutter.

She looked up at him and met his gaze.

"So enters Callen Snape."


	38. A Goodbye and A Greeting

Here's another Chapter for you all, guy's!! I'm glad you liked my last chapter so much. I hope this one is up to par as well. Just so you all know, from this chapter onward, Harry will be Callen, or Cal. That's who he's portraying to the world, so that's what I'll call him. At least until I need to have him called Harry again, but that won't be for some time.

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Opinion Poll:I am thinking about speeding up time to the first day of term at Kings Cross! I have a bad habit of dragging things out for no reason (as I'm sure some of you have noticed) and would like to start things rolling. Please tell me if you want me to do this, or if I should do a couple of days with Hermione and Harry still during the Summer, before I get into it. I would really like to know!

Please review and tell me if I need more detail or focus in some aspect of my writing. Only others opinions will help me improve!

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Chapter Thirty Eight: A Goodbye and A Greeting

"That was quite the spectacle you created out there, Harry," said Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk while Harry grinned impishly, sitting in one of the headmasters plush chairs. "Though I must say, it did speed things along quite nicely. That and we no longer have to worry about anyone wanting to find your body in the future. That trick you pulled with your finger was rather insightful."

Harry looked at his left hand and wiggled the half grown stump that rested there, shrugging his now broad and powerful shoulders. "It was a bit on impulse, sir," he answered, scratching at the neat facial hair that encompassed his jaw. "It really only rids us of one manner that some people might discover the truth. We still need to make Callen a reality in the historical and paperwork sense."

The funeral was technically still in session, but the crowd was only mingling, watching while attempts at diminishing the blaze continued vainly. As soon as Harry had set his coffin alight, he'd Pafted straight into the headmasters office, Shifting back into Callen immediately afterwards. He was relieved that he need never alter who he was ever again. There was no more reason to pretend who he was anymore…

"Yes, Harry, that's true," Dumbledore interrupted Harry's musings, bringing him back to the current conversation. "I'll need to contact someone at the Ministry to create the proper files regarding you. Have you thought any more on how you're going to reintroduce yourself to the general population yet?"

Harry let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length locks, ignoring how his long fringe swept back into his eyes. "Sort of," he answered hesitantly. "Dad and I were talking about it a little while ago, and we brought up a couple of ideas that may work." With that, Harry told Dumbledore the options he and Severus had discussed while in the Infirmary, going over how he could be a Potions Apprentice, or even continue his schooling as he was, claiming that he wished to redo his NEWT's, much like a Muggle Mature Age Student would.

"I only came up with the redoing NEWT's one, because Hermione threatened to find a way to kill me, then do it herself, if I didn't finish school," Harry muttered a little meekly when Dumbledore raised an eyebrow suggestively at the proposition.

"Well, Harry – "

"I think we should start getting used to calling me Callen, Professor Dumbledore," Cal interrupted. "I'm going to go by my real name from now on."

Dumbledore held Cal's gaze for a moment, before nodding his head slowly. "Very well, Callen. If that is your wish. Now, as I was saying … the story of you returning to attempt NEWT's again would probably work the best, and as you've already declared to the Minister himself about being Severus's Apprentice, we'll make it a side cover story."

"Will my OWL score's be the same as before, or will we need to make new ones?" Cal asked apprehensively.

"That would depend on what your OWL's were, Callen," Dumbledore replied, steepling his fingers in front of him. "We can not have too many similarities between you two alter ego's, naturally…"

Cal agreed with Dumbledore wholeheartedly, and the two sat and discussed what and what not to change about his schooling history, until Severus came through the door, looking a little flustered.

"Harry?" Sev said, surprised.

"Callen," Cal corrected, smirking at the small smile on his father's face at the clarification.

"Of course," Sev replied distractedly, turning back to Dumbledore. "Albus, we seem to be having a large amount of trouble trying to douse the fire Cal started earlier on. Nothing seems to work on it! The water only fuels the flames, and anything else just has no effect…"

"Ahh," Cal interjected, feeling a little reproachful of himself. "That's my fault, you see, um … I've sort of gained Fire Control, Creation, Manipulation and Immunity, recently. It came about in the Infirmary and I'd only just got some kind of handle on it when I sped up my farewell. I could try and stop it if you wanted? It won't burn anything else at all, even if you walked through it, but I'm the one that can control it … so…" He trailed off, sinking a little in his chair, waiting for the rebuke.

"You _aren't_ in any trouble, Cal," said Severus, his voice soft and unfamiliarly free of malice. "Now that we know why we can't be rid of it, you can do your best to smother it from a discreet distance … all right?"

Cal shot Severus a small grin, visibly relaxing, and stood at the window overlooking the Quidditch Pitch, able to see the blaze clearly from his position. He frowned and swivelled to look at his father, "How many people tried to wet it down?"

Sev smirked grimly, "A lot, to put it simply."

Cal raised an eyebrow and turned back to the glowing blaze, relaxing as best he could, and stretching out his senses, feeling the flame as though it were alive…

***

Hermione stood with Fred, George and the rest of the attending Weasley's along the inner side of the Quidditch stands, watching as at least a quarter of the crowd tried to quench the flames of Harry's coffin and the dais it rested on. Everything they'd tried thus far had proven absolutely useless. Even little Professor Flitwick didn't know how to charm it away.

"Well," said Fred, leaning down to mutter in her ear. "At least he left with a bang, eh?"

"No kidding," Hermione mumbled back, shaking her head at Harry's penchants for mischief. "At least now there's proof that he doesn't have a body anymore…"

Fred and George nodded, but they were all distracted by the notable increase in sobbing from Mrs Weasley. To say that the twins and her felt absolutely wretched by not cluing their poor mother, and the rest of the family in on what was really going on, would be a gross understatement. Hermione knew that Mrs Weasley had counted Harry as though he'd been a lost son, and it was clearly tearing the older woman apart that she'd lost him.

A sudden exclamation out by the blaze brought everyone's attention back to it, and everyone was surprised when the flames started to diminish rapidly … almost as though they were being repressed by something outside of their control.

Hermione cast her gaze to the masses, sure she knew what the sudden cause for the fire's decreased intensity. Only a few familiar faces popped out of the crowd. Not the one she was looking for.

"Fred, can you cast a spell on me please?" she asked suddenly, turning to look up at the castle. "I'm not of age for a few more weeks…"

Looking thoroughly bemused, Fred shrugged but agreed. "What spell?" he asked.

"Sight Enhancement Charm," Hermione answered swiftly.

Shrugging, Fred waved his wand, "_Occulous Focula_!"

Hermione felt the spell take effect, blinking to focus her sharper sight. She scanned the towers, knowing what she was looking for … There! Hermione smiled widely as she saw in the Headmasters tower window, Harry, looking like Callen, with a hand extended towards the Quidditch Pitch.

"It's Harry," Hermione declared quietly after instructing Fred to remove the Charm. "He's controlling the fire from Dumbledore's office."

"Ahh, so that's where he ran off to," said George, glancing up at the tower. "I was starting to think he might have stayed in the coffin just to scare us…"

"I saw Professor Snape take off a few minutes ago," said Fred, looking at the now smoking patch of grass that had held Harry's coffin. "Maybe he knew?"

"It's a possibility," Hermione sighed, also staring at the pile of ash. "I'll just have to ask … _Callen_, the next time I see him…"

George quirked an eyebrow, "Callen? Why are you calling Harry that all of a sudden?"

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "Because that'll be his name from here on out, of course! Honestly…"

"Yeah, George," said Fred in a high pitched voice, brushing non-existent hair from his shoulders. "_Honestly!_"

***

Cal let out a breath and lowered his arm, feeling a little elated at his success. "There," he said, smiling at his father, who had come up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's out."

"Well done, son," Sev smiled, patting Cal's shoulder affectionately. "You're improving all the time. Now– " he turned and made his way to a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk, "– Unless I was mistaken earlier, you were talking about Callen's return to the school?"

"That's correct, Severus," said Dumbledore, resuming his seat behind his desk as Cal retook his own. "Callen was just explaining the reasoning behind the idea of his re-attempting his NEWT's, story."

"Ah, yes," Sev smiled at Cal's grimace. "Miss Granger's alternative arrangement, I believe?"

Cal nodded but remained silent.

"It does seem to be the easiest option," Sev continued, now serious again. "And your apparent age means you could have been schooled here before the current Seventh Years started. No one would remember you ever being here."

"I think it would be best if we made it appear as though Callen had schooled elsewhere, Severus," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling. "Current students do have older siblings that could contradict Callen's attendance here."

Severus sighed in frustration, "Well then what do you suggest?"

Cal glanced between the two older wizards, and felt his stomach clench with apprehension when he saw Dumbledore smile at him serenely.

***

"You know, Dad, it'd probably be more believable if they were all told I was your younger brother, rather than your son," Callen muttered into Severus's ear at Dinner the next night. Dumbledore had just told the staff (the rest of which had returned early for Harry's funeral) of Callen's reasons for being in the school, and his relationship with the Potions Master. To say that most were shocked was an understatement. Only Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall and Poppy knew the real details behind the façade they were displaying, but they did an admirable job of looking startled by the revelation.

Hermione was sat down near Hagrid and was unable to talk to Cal. Dumbledore passed off her residing in the castle to Poppy wanting to check that the injuries she'd sustained in the Department of Mysteries had healed properly.

"I, err … didn't realize you had a son, Severus," a rather nervous Professor Vector spoke up, looking around said person to glance at Callen. "You must have been quite young?"

"I was nineteen, Vallorian," Severus growled irritably, making Cal hide a grin behind his hand. "Everyone makes mistakes in judgement when they're young…"

"So, Mr _Snape_," McGonagall spoke up, pointedly ignoring the discussion between Vector and Severus. "What classes will you be taking to redo your NEWT scores?"

Cal tuned out his father's ever increasing voice, and focused on the question, noting that some of the other teachers were listening in as well. "Well, I was definitely taking Charms, Transfiguration, Potions … I was thinking about Care of Magical Creatures, Defence Against the Dark Arts, obviously … Maybe Herbology, though it was never a strong point, even though it would benefit Potions and that new prestige class, Healing, which I might take as well…"

"Sounds like you've given yourself quite the schedule, Mr Snape," little Professor Flitwick squeaked. "You may even give Miss Granger here, a run for her money…?"

Hermione gave a small snort at the comment, though she did throw Cal a good natured smirk. "He can try," she stated boldly, her tone clearly stating that it would be a lost cause. "But as Mr Snape has done the core work once before, I'd say he's at an unfair advantage."

"You're quite right, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Which is why Mr Snape will not be attending his classes full time."

"What?" Cal exclaimed, surprised by the spontaneousness of the Headmaster.

"It's true, Mr Snape. You will only be required to sit in on two of your lessons for each class per week. Your Professors will send you the summery of the classes you do not attend. The rest of your schooling time will be spent assisting Severus during his lessons, studying for your Potions Apprenticeship."

Callen was stunned speechless for a moment, only distantly noticing that his father was now listening to the conversation. "Okay … but, which lessons will I attend of each class? And I can't exactly skip any lessons on healing, as I've never done it before…?"

"Not to worry, Mr Snape," Dumbledore reassured placidly, giving Cal a look that distinctly made him question the headmasters sanity. "You'll find all the information you require will be on your timetable. Now, we have the matter of your sorting to discuss – "

"Whoa, hold up!" Cal exclaimed in a rather undignified manner. "My Sorting?"

"Of course," said Dumbledore, smiling amiably. "You cannot attend any classes without being placed in one of the residing Houses, so you shall be sorted. You can choose, however, if you would like to be sorted before the rest of the student body, or in private later tonight in my office?"

"I think he should be sorted in front of the school," Hermione piped up, earning a scowl from Cal, to which she only smiled innocently. "It would put him on an even footing with the rest of his classmates, seeing how we all had to be sorted in front of everyone. Despite his unusual schedule, he shouldn't receive any overtly special treatment, especially as it would be viewed as favouritism for a Professors child."

Cal allowed a small growl from the back of his throat to be heard, only resulting in an even cheekier grin from Hermione, while Dumbledore nodded emphatically.

"Wonderful idea, Miss Granger," he smiled. "Although he will have more leeway than other students due to his of age status, I think your point is very valid. Mr Snape shall be sorted during the Sorting Ceremony during the Welcoming Feast. Marvellous…"

Cal sat, staring open mouthed at Dumbledore, not hearing the other Professors chat compatibly amongst themselves. He looked over at Hermione indignantly. She smiled widely and gave him a little wave, before returning her attention to the still rather sorrowful Hagrid.

He sighed heavily, muttering, "I am _so_ going to kill her…"

His father only chuckled lightly.


	39. Hogwarts

Hey there everyone!! Well here's the next Chapter for you all, and I decided to skip right to Kings Cross. I've got a little overview on what happened during the last two weeks of the Summer, so I hope your satisfied with it.

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Another Opinion Poll: Now I face the dilemma on what House to place Harry in. It's only between Gryffindor and Slytherin and I would like you to tell me which one would make the story more interesting. And I want good reasons for your choice as well. The House he's in will ultimately choose which direction this story heads in. Also, I would like advise on which House to put Elizabeth in. I already have an idea on where I want her, but if you could give me your opinions it would be nice. (Just as a side fact, Lizzy's mother, Jess, was in Slytherin. You'll find out who she is in the next chapter.)

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Chapter Thirty Nine: Hogwarts

"Well, well, well," a familiar and unwelcome voice drawled, making Hermione look up from the book she was reading. "If it isn't the Mudblood? All alone are we?" Malfoy sauntered into the compartment, flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. "Not even the Weasel is willing to put up with you now that Potty's kicked it, it seems?"

It was true. When Hermione had arrived at Kings Cross, she'd spotted Ron on the Platform, but he'd ignored her, much to Ginny's confusion. It had upset her at first, but Hermione soon got over it and set about finding herself an empty compartment, waiting for when Callen would arrive. Dumbledore had made him take the train like everyone else, again to treat him like the student he now was, even if he did have a few exemptions.

The last two weeks of the summer was rather lonely for Hermione, as Cal and his father would often be off, honing Cal's powers and more potent magical strength, so he wouldn't seem overly out of place amongst the rest of the school. Hermione had usually watched Cal at work from afar, just observing him passively. She was under no illusions that he didn't know she was there, but the fact that he'd allowed it told her how much he trusted her more than words ever could.

"Go away, Malfoy," said Hermione, her voice clearly showing how sick of him she was. "I couldn't be bothered arguing with you anymore…"

"You know, I never did get to get Potter back for getting my father thrown in Azkaban, and since his _death_ was so covered over, I think I'll just pass the honour over to you? What say you to that?"

Hermione cocked an eyebrow and stood up, watching as Malfoy stepped into the compartment and drew his wand. "I'd say grow up," she stated, before reaching for her own wand.

Malfoy was faster, and in a flash, Hermione was staring at the tip of his wand, pointing right between her eyes.

"Any last words, Mudblood?" Malfoy sneered, his grey eyes flashing malevolently. But Hermione wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were fixed over Malfoy's shoulder, looking out into the not-so-empty hallway. Noticing, Malfoy turned … and looked straight into the end of a long, Ebony wand.

"Good Morning," Callen's deep voice stated pleasantly. "Am I interrupting something? No?" Malfoy scowled and put his wand away, and only then did Cal lower his own. "Mr Malfoy, is it not? I heard about your father. You have my condolences. My father spoke often of him – "

"Who the hell are you?" Malfoy snapped suddenly, his face flushing an anger. "What right do you have to just come up here and butt in where you aren't wanted?! And don't talk about my father! I've never seen you before, so how would you even know him?!"

Callen merely raised an eyebrow in much the same way his father often did. "Well … and here I thought the Malfoy's prided themselves in their manners and stature? I was clearly misinformed. If you would be so kind as to move along, Mr Malfoy, and leave this young lady alone … hmm?"

*

"Well, that went well, don't you think?" said Cal as he sat heavily on the seat opposite Hermione, shutting the compartment door.

"It could have gone worse," Hermione stated dryly, resuming her reading. "How was your training this morning?"

"It was good," Cal answered, nodding his head. "I can now control exactly how much power to put into my spells, to make it look as though I'm just a little over average in power. Kinda like how I used to be, only now I get new spells right in one or two goes…" He shook his head, "I can't believe it took me two weeks to get back into the habit of sleeping and eating again though. I'm surprised at how fast I got used to being without them…"

"Well, you do know that you'll probably be allowed to wander the school at night if you can't sleep," said Hermione, not looking up from her page. "I'm pretty sure Dumbledore and your Dad won't begrudge you of that."

The day trudged onwards as the Hogwarts Express sped towards Hogsmeade, the day growing ever darker as clouds gathered above them. Some of 'Harry Potter's' old classmates came around to pay Hermione a small visit, but soon left under the new visitors dispassionate gaze.

"I wonder what House I'll be sorted into this time?" Cal commented absently, tying his hair up at the nape of his neck with a band of silk. "I mean … people change over time, don't they…"

"Don't be silly, Cal, of course you'll be placed back in Gryffindor," said Hermione, though Cal could detect the smallest ounce of urgency in her tone.

Night had fallen and the Express pulled into Hogsmeade, the threatening clouds having dumped their loads, the rain soaking everyone to the bone. Hermione quickly gave Cal a reassuring hug, before heading off to the Thestral pulled carriages, while he made his way towards where Hagrid was rounding up the First Years. Being over two feet taller than most of them, Cal was feeling a little self conscious, but his awkwardness vanished when he spotted a very familiar head of raven hair stepping into one of the boats at the front.

Elizabeth was huddled with three other girls as they tried to keep warmth to a maximum and rain to a minimum, but it didn't work very well. Everyone was drenched and the lake looked horrendous to cross.

"Alrigh'!" Hagrid bellowed over the rain, sitting in the lead boat. Cal took one near the back, but made sure he could see Elizabeth. "Ev'ryone inter ther' boats!"

The crossing over trip was rough, to put it minutely. The wind was howling, the usually placid lake top was bucking and swaying, the water surging into the boats, soaking everyone even more.

"This is ridiculous!" Cal hissed, drawing his new wand and casting a strong charm that repelled the rain and swell, while letting the small boats continue on their way to the barely visible castle in front of them all. Many of the first years were looking around each other, trying to figure out what had been done. "You would _think_ they'd put repelling charms on these things by now, but no… Hmpf…" Harry paused for a moment and reflected upon his new wand. It was made of Ebony, thirteen and a half inches, with a Phoenix feather core. Dumbledore had sent a special order in to Olivander's, requesting that the old wand maker use the tail feather Fawkes provided in Cal's wand core. It had been very difficult, especially to fool the old wand maker that he wasn't 'Harry Potter' any longer. It had all been worth it though, especially once Cal was allowed to touch the shaft of black bone. It had felt almost like a rush of exultation. He couldn't describe it …….

"Uh … Callen, isn't it?" a small voice rang out to Callen, who was still sitting in the boat. "Mr Callen, we've landed…"

Cal came back to his senses and realized that they had indeed come to rest. He looked at the person that spoke to him and smiled warmly. "Thank you, Elizabeth," he said, standing swiftly and making towards the First Years that were being led from the bowls of the school. "And please, call me Cal? The Mr stuff is making me feel older than I already do…"

Cal grinned down at Elizabeth and was relieved when she returned it.

"Okay … Cal. But you have to call me Liz or Lizzy. Elizabeth is too much of a mouthful…"

Callen held out his hand and Lizzy took it, shaking it once. "Deal," the said in unison. They quickly caught up to the other First Years just as Professor McGonagall was telling them about the House Point System.

"You know about the Houses, don't you?" said Cal, leaning down to whisper in Lizzy's ear. "Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and all that?"

Lizzy nodded, "Mum told me all about it," she replied quietly. "Man, it's going to be weird to have her for a Professor this year…"

"What?!" Cal whispered a little loudly, but it was ignored as McGonagall had finished her speech and was now leading all the new students inside the majestic Great Hall.

*

Severus barely noticed when the older students started entering the Great Hall, ready for the Sorting. He was too busy throwing the filthiest looks down the table at Dumbledore. How on earth did that man become so meddling?! Why did he not think to tell him about this earlier? It wasn't as though he hadn't been around for the past two weeks!

"Enjoying your brooding, Severus?" Jessica asked calmly from her seat beside him. Beside her was Minerva's empty place. She was looking out into the Hall, eyeing the students as they quickly found their seats. "Good Lord … Lucius procreated? I feel sorry for his Mistress …" she commented as Draco sauntered into the Hall and made his way toward the Slytherin table, his cronies following dumbly. "Some Weasley's are still here as well … they seem to be a bit with odds at each other…"

Severus could clearly see that the two Weasley siblings were having a bit of a spat as well, and he had an idea of what it was. Sure enough, after he saw Ginny whack her brother around the ear, Hermione came around the corner, making Ron scowl and hurry off to a seat beside Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Ginny and Hermione shared a few quiet words before Ginny went off to sit with her own friends, while Hermione took a seat beside Neville Longbottom, who was looking particularly down in the dumps, his eyes falling to the seat that Harry Potter had occupied most often during his schooling.

"That's Alice and Frank's boy, isn't it?" Jessica whispered into his ear, her eyes having also followed the small commotion. Severus only nodded, no longer focussed on the discussion. His eyes rose to the House Banners, hanging above their respective tables. They all had black flags throughout the row, alternating from one to the next. Looking around the students now, he saw that the Gryffindor table was the most suppressed, when usually they were amongst the rowdiest. A few of the students were respectfully sombre because they didn't know Harry very well … but amongst the glummest were the Sixth Years, and a couple from higher or lower that had come to know him, like the two Creevy brothers. In the other houses, Severus could also see sad faces, most of which were the other Sixth Years Harry would have known in the mixed classes … other than his Slytherins, however. He could see that a number of them, mainly Draco and his little circle looked positively gleeful at the fact, eyeing the Gryffindors like prey.

He dreaded his Potions class if it had any of them in it together. It would be putting oil to the fire.

"I decided to allow Elizabeth to use her real surname, Severus," Jessica suddenly whispered into his ear. "To save confusion, Albus will announce me by my maiden name…"

"You did what?!" Sev bit back, finally turning to look at the woman beside him, but what he wanted to say was interrupted by the doors to the Great hall opening widely, admitting the nervous looking First Years. Sev turned to look at them, and fought against a smile when he saw Callen walking along behind them all, a tower in comparison. He could see his flush of embarrassment from here. "Jessica, before this night is over, you will have a small shock, but I ask that you not jump to conclusions before it is explained to you…?"

She didn't get to answer as McGonagall had set up the stool and Sorting Hat in front of them. Severus tuned out the Hat's annoying song in lieu of analysing the new batch of horrors he'd be teaching. He spotted Elizabeth near the back, standing beside Callen looking rather calm, and wondered if the two had already started talking to each other. He saw Callen glance around the Hall, looking at anyone who was staring at him, and glared, making them turn back to the Hat. As though he sensed it, Severus could tell that Cal didn't want to look at the Gryffindor table, but his natural curiosity took over and did.

He saw Cal nod at someone halfway down and assumed it was Miss Granger. He glanced over and found he was correct. The bushy-haired bookworm was giving his son a very small, yet present, warm smile of reassurance. He was thankful because he knew Callen would need it. Cal's eyes did not sweep the table and Severus could see why. Ron Weasley was glaring at Cal as though he was the most disgusting thing on the planet. Severus was silently cursing the boy, wishing that he wouldn't be so publicly obvious about his feelings. Technically, Ron didn't know Callen and had no reason to hate him so much. Anyone perceptive enough would grow suspicious.

The Sorting Hat finished its song and the students clapped politely. McGonagall unrolled the parchment of names and waited for quiet before reading out the first name.

"Abbot, Terry!"

A small brown haired boy appeared from the middle of the group and nervously sat on the stool. The Hat flopped over his head, but Severus didn't need the Hat to know where this boy was heading.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Severus clapped politely as the boy rushed over to the table, speaking for a moment to his sister, Hannah, before taking his seat near the front.

The Sorting went on, and Severus ignored most of it, clapping politely every time someone was called, only paying attention to the students when a Slytherin was called, the first one being, "Cherney, Merrill!" He started becoming more nervous as the line went on however, wondering how the populous reaction would be when not one, but _two_ Snape's would be called, even if Callen would be specifically last. There would be so many questions about Elizabeth from the staff, as they all knew that Cal was already his, and his Slytherins would be asking about both of them. This was going to be a long night.

"Don't worry so much, Severus," Jessica chided from his side quietly. "You might hold the spotlight for a little while, but I'm sure that will be blown out of the water once Albus introduces me."

"Yes, whatever muse inspired that little idea should be put to death," Sev shot back. "You stopped using your name for a reason, Jess, and it was put to the test fifteen years ago. Why would you want to come out now, of all times?!"

Jess stared at him intently, "In honour of a family that should have been, but was never able to be. I had my chance back then and I didn't take it. Now he's dead, and he'll never know he could have avoided those that would become his murderers…"

Severus regretted bringing the subject up, seeing how much it effected her. Very aware of all the eyes in the room, he carefully manoeuvred his hand so that his little finger brushed up against hers in a small caress. She smiled at the small gesture but didn't comment or move away. Sev allowed himself in inward smile and turned back to the Sorting.

"Snape, Elizabeth!"

The Great Hall went dead quiet and every set of eyes that wasn't a First Year turned to face her. The reaction to her name was obviously making the slim girl very nervous and she made to step behind Callen. Sev raised an eyebrow at that, but soon Elizabeth was striding toward the stool, Callen having stooped to whisper something to her, before standing straight again and glaring heatedly at everyone. Severus saw Minerva shoot a questioning look at him before placing the hat upon his daughters raven locks.


	40. The Sorting and School Starts

New Chapter guy's!! Wow, I really had to opposite views on where to stick Callen and Lizzy, so I took the one I was going to in the first place. I hope I don't upset anyone by it. PLUS, you finally find out who Jessica really is. Cal's not a happy camper, but he'll get over it.

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Help! If anyone can throw me ideas on what to have some of the teachers teach in class I would be most grateful!! Mainly what to do in the DADA and CoMC classes. Charms and Transfiguration are pretty simple, and the Healing is brand new…

I would love the help, and please tell me if I'm doing anything not to your liking (within reason of course) Later!!

PS: Someone asked me a while ago about Callen's name. I got it from a baby name book and put together, Callen Emrys means, The Battle Mighty Immortal. There you have it.

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Chapter Forty: The Sorting, and School Starts

Cal shot a nervous glance up at his father, waiting for the Sorting Hat to say something. It had been sitting on Lizzy's head for the past ten minutes. Even his last Sorting didn't take that long. But when he'd made eye contact, the face sitting beside him drew his gaze.

Jessica was to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the year. Cal allowed himself a small grin, remembering Lizzy's words about how strange it would be. He could relate. Briefly, Cal wondered if the small girl even knew that the man she'd met in the Leaky Cauldron was not only her father, but her Potions Professor as well? He doubted it, and knew it would come as a shock to find not just her father, but her brother as well.

"SLYTHERIN!!!" the Hat screamed out finally, garnishing a mixed reaction from the Snakes. Some were silently contemplative about the decision, while others were clapping politely. Only a few seemed wary by the Hat's choice, but they soon wore blank masks, hiding their reaction. Liz took the Hat off her head and walked nervously towards the Slytherin table, scanning it for anywhere she could sit. Eventually she sat down the front with a couple of other First Years.

Looking up at his father, Cal smiled inwardly when he saw that battling conflict in his eyes. He could tell that the man was thrilled at his daughter under his own care in Slytherin, but again the need of his mask kept him from showing his real pride. Callen often found it sad…

The line of First Years dwindled slowly, but the time came when Cal was the only one left standing in the middle of the Great Hall, feeling extraordinarily self-conscious on the inside, but applying his fathers teaching and looking cool on the out. Most eyes were focused on him, confused by his presence, but remained silent as Dumbledore stood to make a small announcement.

"I'm sure all of you are curious as to why our newest student is so old in comparison to the rest of our First Years, so I shall be brief. Due to unforseen circumstances in the past, this young man was unable to complete his NEWT's satisfactorily, and has decided to come here to reattempt them. His timetable will differ from the norm also, so he can commence the Potions Apprenticeship that he has accepted under Professor Snape. Thank you."

Dumbledore resumed his seat as the Great Hall was filled with muttering and murmurs, curious about the newcomer. Callen sighed inwardly, waiting for the reaction to McGonagall announcing his name.

"Snape, Callen!"

***

In the dark of the night, a sole figure strode purposefully down the halls and stairwells, feeling his rising anger build with each step towards his destination. The events of the Sorting had been long forgotten to his mind, save for one fact. The announcement of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Forgotten was the reaction to his name being announced, dismissed was the shock and surprise on Hermione's face as he sat with the Serpents … No. This anger was unbridled and begging to be released, his newfound control being the only thing keeping it bound.

Turning swiftly around the last corner, spotting the door he was searching for, he half-ran up to it, passing through the Wards effortlessly, and slammed the door open…

"How could you not tell me?!!!" Callen shouted as soon as he took a step into his father's quarters, startling the man sitting at the desk in the corner. "Hell, forget you, _everyone didn't tell me!!!_"

"Shut the door, Cal," Severus requested calmly, sitting his quill down and standing. He moved to his leather chair as Cal angrily did so, before claiming the couch and staring at him hardly. "I didn't tell you because I knew you would overreact – "

"Overreact?" Cal interrupted. "_Overreact!_ I have every bloody reason to overreact, thank you very much! I never get told anything! _Why did someone never think to mention that James Potter has a Sister??!!_"

"Because it was not our right to!" Severus snapped back, standing swiftly and starting to pace the length of the hearth. "It was only Jessica's right to reveal her name to whom she chose … no one else's. She started using a different surname when she finished Hogwarts. Practically cutting herself off from the Wizarding World, most who didn't know her very well forgot about her, including me. I met Jess two years after the Dark Lords first fall and we were married not long afterwards. She never told me who she really was, but a couple of years later I found out and asked for her to leave…" Sev stopped his pacing and turned to face Callen, his features strangely sad. "She disappeared without a trace … I never knew she was pregnant with Elizabeth at the time…"

"Why did she stop being a Potter?" Cal asked softly.

"Her father tried to throw her out of the house because … strangely enough, Jess was Sorted into Slytherin. The very first Potter to do so. Think in the way Sirius Black was treated by his family for being in Gryffindor and you'll get the idea…"

Cal shook his head, "But it's only a stupid House? I don't really see the point in them really … all they do is make everyone competitive, and not always sportingly."

Severus only shrugged, neither agreeing or not. "Anyway, after school let out, she just started a new life with a new name, not wanting the stigma that was attached to her old one … much like you are, only, the circumstances are somewhat … different, you might say…" Cal only grunted in accord. "Cooled down now?" Sev asked, shooting Cal a mischievous grin. "Not going to blow anyone up just for the fun of it?"

Callen sighed and looked at the floor, "I'm sorry I yelled, Dad, I know I shouldn't have gotten so riled up about it…"

"It's okay, Cal," said Sev, patting his son on the shoulder. "If I'd found out something like that as well, I think I might do near on the same thing."

Cal smiled and stood, giving his father a quick hug goodnight and opening the door. "Oh … How did Jessica react to my name?" he asked before leaving.

Sev placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. "A little of everything I'd say, Cal," he answered. "I haven't had the chance to speak to her yet about it, but I will soon. Why?"

"Well, I was looking up spells that help keep secrets, and I found one that would work best for my situation. I just want Jess and Liz to know about who and what I really am…"

Severus nodded, "Make sure you include everyone you've told so far though. You'd be surprised at just how often people say too much…"

Callen shook his head and grinned, answering with a single word, "Hagrid."

***

"_King Cobra_."

The stone doorway to the Slytherin Common Room slid open and Cal walked in, thankful that the area was so empty. As he was starting Sixth Year work the next day, Dumbledore had placed him in with the other Sixth Year boys. Needless to say that he and Malfoy hadn't exactly hit it off right away, but the other boy had lessened the sneer and was politely rude whenever they spoke. Cal figured that was as good as he would get and attributed it to being the Head of Houses son.

Not really in the mood to explain his rather sudden departure from the Den, Cal took up a seat on the couch by the fire, letting his thoughts wander, not really focussing on any one thought. It wasn't until he heard the soft footfalls of someone coming from the Dorms that Cal looked at the clock and found it was time for the early birds to get up for breakfast.

__

Shit! he thought, looking down at himself, still wearing what he had at the sorting. He'd seen his Slytherin robes on his bed last night, so Cal hurriedly waved his hand and changed his clothes, throwing in a freshening charm for good measure. Conjuring a silk band, he calmly began to tie back his hair, just as the first riser walked around the corner.

"Liz?" said Cal, surprised to see his sister up so early. "Good morning, how was your first night in the Dorms?"

The smaller girl walked up to him but didn't sit. "It was okay, I suppose. Better than it would have been if everyone knew I was "Professor Potter's" daughter, though."

Cal sighed, "Yeah …" he glanced at Liz and saw that she was looking a little uncomfortable. "Sit down? I won't bite," he added with a grin. Smiling shyly, she did so, staring into the dieing fire.

"So," she started, "you're my brother?"

Callen looked down at the top of Liz's head, a little surprised by her abruptness, but expecting the question some time.

"Yeah," he answered. "We've got the same father, so technically you're my half-sister … but I don't care about the details…" Cal hesitated when he didn't see Liz react to his words. "That is, of course, unless you don't want me to be your brother…"

"No! No, it's not that, it's just – " Liz took a deep breath, "I don't know anything about being a sister, or what it's like to have a brother, or even having a father! I'm sorry, I'm babbling – "

"It's okay," Cal smiled, taking a chance and draping his arm over Liz's tiny shoulders. "I've never had a sister either, so it'll be a learning experience for both of us." Seeing Liz still looked rattled, he added, "They don't call it a school for nothing, you know?"

She looked up at him, "That was really lame," she deadpanned, doing a perfect job of keeping a straight face.

"How about this then," said Cal, sitting up a little. "We just be friends, and work on the brother/sister stuff later on? 'Kay?"

Liz shot him a relieved grin, "Great. That makes it easier. I mean, I was already your friend and I didn't know how to act around you as your sister, but this just makes it easier to handle. Coming up to breakfast?"

All this was said rather quickly and Cal only just managed to understand the request thrown in at the end.

"Oh, sure! It's a bit early, but who cares…?"

So the two set off for the Great Hall, the pair quite a sight. Liz being small and slight, and Cal, tall and robust. The only things that were similar, was their straight, jet black hair, and the sharp features they inherited from their father.

Only Professor McGonagall was in the Great Hall when Cal and Liz emerged from the Dungeon entrance, and she merely nodded politely at them in greeting. Nodding back, Cal steered Liz into a seat and sat beside her, filling his plate with something of everything, knowing that it would do little to him health wise. He didn't even need it ti survive anymore, so why not indulge while he can?

"Sure you got enough there?" Liz asked idly, dishing herself up some bacon, sausages and eggs. She poured some pumpkin juice and tipped the jug at him, asking silently if he wanted any as well.

"Just catching up on lost time," Cal commented playfully, nodding at her in answer to the pumpkin juice. "Why, is there a school rule for stuffing yourself?" Liz handed him his juice. "Thank you. Hash Brown?" Liz shook her head and Cal replaced the plate of battered mashed potato. "Don't know what your missing…"

As the early morning vanished into late, the Great Hall filled with students and Professors. As Cal was helping himself to a second helping of everything, his father, Jessica, and Dumbledore walked in. Cal frowned over at them but no one was looking in his direction.

"What's wrong?" Liz asked, keeping her voice down to prevent eavesdroppers listening in.

Cal looked down at her and tried to smile reassuringly. "Nothing important, bud. Don't worry over it, I was just thinking about something."

He must have been convincing, for Liz just shrugged and nibbled at what was left on her plate. Not long after, Cal spotted Hermione walk in by herself, sit at her usual spot, and open up a large book and start reading. Next moment, Ginny walked in with Neville and Dean, Seamus catching up behind them. Ron didn't stroll in until near the end of Breakfast, just before the timetables were to be handed out. Callen noted that he sat closer to Hermione this time, and figured Ginny, plus a few other Gryffindors, had probably had a word with him about his treatment of Hermione.

It was at that moment, however, that Cal felt more lonely than he'd ever been. Here, in Slytherin, he had no one to talk to, to joke around with, or even just to sit in companionable silence. Yes, he had Lizzy to talk to, but it wasn't the same as sitting down and having a talk about nothing with a best friend. Almost as though she could feel his eyes, Hermione looked up from her book and locked eyes with him, and Cal knew that she was feeling the same.

***

Striding quickly through the Dungeons, Cal hurried off to his first NEWT lesson. When his father had handed them their timetables, Cal saw that the lessons he had to attend were all the double periods, meaning that he needn't attend the singles, leaving him the time to do whatever his father wanted him to work on down in the Dungeons, covering up with the façade that it was a Potions Apprenticeship. In fact, the names of the teachers that knew about him, and were free during one of said single lessons, were actually listed in case he needed some help with learning something about the subject they taught.

Callen still hadn't figured out how he'd gotten an Outstanding on his Potions OWL … but he had, and that allowed him to take what was sure to be a more interesting class, now that he wasn't the focus of Professor Snape's malice. He and Cal had arranged early on that he was to call his father 'Professor', or 'Sir' during all school hours, and in the company of anyone else save his family, Dumbledore and McGonagall. Just before separating for class, Cal had relayed the message to Liz, just in case.

He turned down the Potions corridor, to find that he was one of the first ones there. As the NEWT classes depended on your passing grades, the lessons were mixed from all the Houses to make up numbers. Only things like Charms and Herbology kept more than one class, as most people did rather well in them, and the NEWT passing grade was usually lower than the more specialized branches of magic like Transfiguration.

"Snape," the blonde haired figure nodded, leaning against the wall near the door.

"Mr Malfoy," Cal returned just as coolly. He noted that Crabbe and Goyle were absent, but unfortunately, Pansy Parkinson was present, as was Blaise Zabini, but Cal found he could tolerate him better than the others. They stood together silently, until the rest of the class finally decided to make an appearance. Cal heard them coming from around the corner and turned to see who else was in with him. Hermione rounded first, but Cal wasn't surprised about that in the least. Next came Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchly from Hufflepuff, followed by Luna Lovegood and Padma Patil, from Ravenclaw. Hermione was the only Gryffindor. It seemed as though that was all, and for a moment Cal thought that it was a rather small number.

The door to the classroom opened suddenly, making most the students jump, and Professor Snape stepped out into the hall, beckoning them in silently, throwing his infamous scowl at the appropriate people. Just as Cal was about to step through, however, he heard loud footfalls speeding down the stairwell two corridors away, and paused, letting the others go in before him. He saw his father give him a slight frown, but Cal ignored it, waiting to see who the straggler was. 

That was, until he saw it was the last person he thought he'd see, in Snape's NEWT Potions Class.


	41. Explosions for Sale

Hey there, here's two chapters in one go, so, make sure you've read the last Chapter before this one. I had my account locked for the past few days and couldn't upload anything, so I continued the typing, and now you have two Chapters to read. The help on the classes still stands, and I would appreciate any ideas you could give me.

As for where I've put Cal and Liz, I hope I haven't unduly upset anyone, but that's where I thought they would work best. That and I've always liked the stories where Slytherin isn't as bad as everyone makes them seem.

Don't forget to review please, and tell me where I need to improve!!

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Chapter Forty One: Explosions for Sale

"Take your seats!" Snape barked as he strode up to the front, swivelling to face the class in his usual dramatic flair. He saw Callen shake himself of his surprise, but didn't even get to step into the room before Weasley roughly pushed passed him, knocking Cal's book bag to the floor. Snape narrowed his eyes at the red-head as he sat beside Granger, happy to see the little whelp squirm in his seat. Of course, the look Granger shot him wasn't bad either, seeming to make Weasley even more nervous.

Callen stooped and picked his bag up, but when he stepped up to his seat near Zabini, he moved his hand ever so slightly, in Weasley's direction. The move was so small that no one else suspected anything, but he wasn't a spy for nothing. He rose an inquisitive eyebrow at Cal, but the boy just shook his head a fraction. He knew to ask later.

"This is one of your NEWT classes and as such, if you do not keep your standard up, you will be thrown out," Snape started, making sure to be short and to the point so they would understand, while making him look as cruel as he always had. "Somehow you all managed to receive the highest OWL in your Potions exam, so be prepared for much harder and more dangerous projects from here on out." They were all listening intently … except Weasley. Snape could see his gaze flicking from him, to Callen. It was almost as though the boy was analysing him in some way.

"Today, we will be brewing the '_Polar Minded Draught_.' While not considered an illegal potion, it is frowned upon in it's use, for it's ability to make those who drink it perform and behave in the opposite manner than they normally would have. It can be a general switch, effecting almost everything about a person, though the effects are less acute when used in such a way, or it can focus on one part of the targets behaviour, namely sporting skill or in an emotion. When used to target a single change, this potion does indeed make it's target have the polar opposite effect."

Granger raised her hand. Typical.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he drawled.

"How long does the potion last for, Sir?"

"Until the antidote is administered, and it takes approximately two months to brew. Instructions and ingredients," he waved his wand, "are on the board. If required, you may use the storage cupboard. Begin."

There was a general rustle of movement as everyone collected their equipment, before people started trekking back and forth from the storage cupboard at the front of the class, gathering their ingredients. For the first half an hour, all anyone did was prepare their ingredients, chopping and crushing what was needed. Granger and Callen were among the first to start their cauldrons simmering, quickly followed by the rest of the class. Weasley was the last.

Slowly, he started walking around the room, assessing the progress each of them was making in actuality, while telling them differently. Though, not with all of them. Weasley's cauldron was spitting out blue sparks at random intervals.

"Pathetic, Mr Weasley," he sneered, peering into the concoction disdainfully. "I suspect that even Longbottom would have done better. Ten points from Gryffindor for your idiocy." He smiled wickedly when Weasley turned beet red, before turning from the boy's mess to look at Grangers. She looked nervous about his reaction and he smiled inwardly. Keeping his face neutral, he merely nodded and left to look at the others without comment.

"Very good, Mr Malfoy," he commented idly, noting that although his potion was slightly off colour it would still work effectively enough. "Ten points to Slytherin." He continued around the remaining Slytherins, finishing up with Callen, who was bottling his potion and labelling it. The unused portion sat just off to the side.

"Finished already, Mr Snape? Surprising, considering your history in the subject?"

"Well, not having your Professor on your case every ten seconds sort of helps in that area, Sir," Cal answered, remaining respectfully polite to him as a teacher, but having a jibe discreetly as his father.

"I'm sure it does," he replied softly. Callen handed him the vial with a small smile. He nodded back and turned back to the front, striding to his desk saying, "Class is almost finished. Bottle your potion as it is and it will be graded according to your correct progress. It will not be – "

"_Ron, NO!_"

Snape whipped around in time to hear a splash, his eyes following Grangers horrified gaze to meet with Callen, who had been bent low over his book bag and didn't see what had happened. Hearing Granger, he'd looked up, his face morphing into disbelief at what had happened.

It happened so quickly Snape didn't even have time to take more than a hurried step forward. Callen had stood rapidly, his wand appearing in his hand as he snatched up the spitting cauldron, conjuring a gaping hole in the solid stone floor of the Dungeon, before tossing the whole cauldron into it and sealing it again.

He was thrown over his desk as the back half of the classroom exploded.

***

"You should have had him expelled, Albus!" Severus growled out for the twentieth time, wincing as he moved his arm. It had been broken due to his rather forceful fall, but he'd come out better than some of his other students. All of them were staying in the Infirmary tonight, some for precaution, others due to their more serious injuries.

Finch-Fletchly was lucky to have his leg, and Draco had received a three inch long gash down his neck from the flying debris. Most of the class was suffering from shock and mild burns and abrasions.

He was currently sitting behind the curtained off bed that his son lay in. Cal had received the worst injuries due to his close proximity to the blast, and in a strange way he was happy it wasn't anyone else. Only Callen could have survived it. Callen had been thrown through the damaged wall that lead into the corridor, accounting for the bones he'd broken and the large cuts and bruising. His left side had been severely burned, and if it wasn't for what he was, the arm would not have existed by that point.

Severus knew that Callen kept almost everything running at its lowest ability, so he knew that his son was healing quickly compared to a normal human. Yet because he'd been knocked to within an inch of a coma, the healing would remain at the slow pace until Cal regained enough control of his mind to speed it up.

Albus, Hermione and Minerva were also seated around Callen's bed. Hermione's right arm was bandaged from a nasty cut, and she had a piece of gauze stuck to her forehead where she'd been struck by debris.

"Suspension for a month is by no means enough of a punishment for something like this!" he continued.

"He's right, Professor," Hermione spoke up, her expression sad as she looked down at Callen, but her eyes were ablaze at the thought of what Ron had done. "If it wasn't for Cal's quick thinking we might have all been killed."

"I agree, Granger," a new voice drawled from the corner. Draco Malfoy stepped into the curtained off area and looked down at Callen's unconscious form. "Sir, is he going to be all right?"

Severus took a moment to appraise Draco's sincerity and eventually nodded, "Yes, Mr Malfoy. He will be eventually, though I don't see him attending classes for a little while. He could get up in two weeks or in two months. We don't know…"

"Stupid Weasley!" Malfoy spat suddenly, wincing and laying a hand on his bandaged throat. "Throwing anything into a brew like that – "

"I seem to recall you doing much the same thing over the years, Malfoy," Hermione snapped angrily, "only nothing like that ever happened, so you always got away with it!"

"Unlike Weasley, Granger, I know my potions ingredients well enough to figure out what will fizzle a brew instead of making a bloody bomb out of it!" Malfoy shot back. "I'm still trying to figure out what Weasley's got against him anyway? He's never even met the guy and he tries to off him?"

"Perhaps it is time you returned to your bed, Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore spoke up. His voice soft yet not without authority. "You will require your rest in order for your injuries to heal. Off you go…"

"Wait! … No, what about Granger?" Malfoy demanded as Severus stood to escort him back to his bed. "How come she gets to stay? She doesn't know Callen either! And he's a Slytherin, why should she give too hoots about him?!"

"Another time perhaps, Mr Malfoy," Severus answered, guiding the tall boy from the curtains and back to the bed he would be staying in.

***

"Ron … did that?" Liz breathed shakily as she sat down in the common room the next day. Everyone bar Callen and Justin were released the next day a while before dinner, and all potions classes had been suspended until the room could be fixed. Draco had seen her sitting on the couch by the fire and came to tell her what had happened to her brother. "But, he seemed so nice?" Draco frowned and she continued, "I met him in Flourish and Blotts and he took me to see his brothers' shop…"

"Did he know who you were?" asked Draco. Liz shook her head.

"No … but why would he hate Cal just because of his father? They aren't the same person?"

Draco grimaced a little and looked away. "It's just the way some people are…"

***

By the second morning after the accident, most of the school knew Ron Weasley of Gryffindor had blown up the Potions classroom, nearly ridding the school of Snape's son. Hermione looked disgusted by her fellow Gryffindor's, most of whom were complaining that he didn't finish one of them off properly. Ginny was continuously being told to tell Ron congratulations, and Hermione was feeling sick from it.

She spotted Snape walk in from the Dungeons passage, only to leave after having nothing to eat, glaring at the Gryffindor table as though he wished upon it the same fate as his classroom. Sick and tired by the people surrounding her, Hermione quickly picked up her books and stood, about to leave, when she heard Seamus Finnegan call out to her.

"Hey, Hermione! Were you going? Didn't you here what Ron did to that Snape git?"

Hermione whirled on him, startling the Irish boy and those closest to him with her anger. "Of course I know what that idiot did, Seamus! I was in the room when he blew it to kingdom come! And you know what else? Ron came this close to becoming a murderer, that morning, that's what! Now, I don't know about you, but I know murderers go to prison! I don't ever want to hear another person defending what that chauvinistic, discriminate, pig-headed bigot did, ever again, _or so help me you'll be in detention until your hair turns white!!!_" She glared, red-faced at the stunned faces in front of her, barely noticing that she'd gotten the attention of the whole Hall. "_Am I understood?_"

Seamus's skin had turned a sickly shade of grey and had nodded jerkily, making odd choking noises as he did so. The rest of the table followed his example, and unnoticed were the small nods from the other Houses.

Gritting her teeth with her overpowering frustration, Hermione picked up her things and stormed from the Hall, not seeing the set of eyes following her curiously from the Slytherin table.

Hermione rested her head against the wall when she stopped at the Transfiguration classroom, trying to settle herself down. She'd not lost her cool like that before, and it was strangely freeing. She couldn't help raising her voice at those blind … _children_, and felt a strange satisfaction at venting. Now she could understand why Snape did it.

Almost as though he'd known her thoughts rested on him, Hermione heard the strong, confident strides heading her way, and looked over at him just before he arrived at her side. She straightened up reflexively, still expecting him to take points off her for any extraordinary reason, but instead found him staring down at her with an almost soft expression.

"Professor?" she asked hesitantly.

Snape's lips quirked a millimetre. "Fifty points to Gryffindor," he said quietly, turning away and striding back down the corridor, leaving a beaming Hermione in his wake.


	42. Altercations

Hello Everyone!! After the fact, and after the first person mentioned it, I did remember that Luna is in Ginny's year, not Harry's. Silly me. Luna's gone, so replace her with one of the other Ravenclaws in Sixth Year. I can't think of any from the top of my head.

Thank you for all the Reviews, it helps egg me on to do the next chapter…lol… I hope this one is enjoyable, and hopefully it brings a few things to light. Though remember to tell me if I'm being too suggestive and not explaining things well enough.

Until next time!!

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Chapter Forty Two: Altercations

It took the whole first week of Term before Callen had finally started to heal at a much more rapid pace, almost healing all of his injuries by the time Dinner came around that Saturday night. Callen had regained consciousness in time for the meal, and was surprised when he saw Lizzy snoozing in the chair beside him. He smiled warmly as he looked at her, before reaching over slowly and tapping her on the leg.

"Lizzy? Hey, Lizzy, wake up…"

The small girl stirred, blinking her eyes to clear them. When she spotted Cal awake, she smiled dazzlingly and gave him a very forceful hug.

"I'm so relieved you're awake," she whispered in his ear. Cal could clearly hear the worry in her voice.

"It's okay, bud. I'm fine, and I'll be back in the dorms in no time…" he said gently, patting Liz on the back reassuringly.

"Draco told me what Ron did," she said, pulling away and sitting on the edge of his bed. "I can't believe he did that … he seemed so nice when I met him…"

"Drac – Wait, you've met Ron?" Cal asked, both surprised and a little concerned. "When? Where? Did he do anything to you?"

"No, no, nothing happened. I ran into him in Diagon Alley the day after I met you and Hermione. He was talking to Mum, then he took me over to his brothers store. He was nice to me … but why did he hurt you?"

Cal sighed and lay back into his pillow. He wanted to tell her, as his sister she had the right to know. He wanted to tell Jessica as well, but he didn't want to repeat himself. He realized he'd remained silent and hadn't answered Liz's question.

"Could you do me a favour, and tell Madame Pomfrey that I would like to see my father and your mother, please Liz?"

He saw her frown curiously, but she obliged and hurried off to the Matrons office. A few minutes later, Liz and Poppy exited her office, Poppy carrying a tray of food for him.

"It's good to see you awake and among the living, Mr Snape," said Poppy, setting the tray on the roller table and swinging it in front of him. "You father and Professor Potter are on their way now. You're telling them both, I assume?"

Cal glanced at Liz who was listening intently, and nodded. "Yes I am, Poppy. I want them to know. Don't worry, there wont be any slips of the tongue. I've got the perfect charm for it, so it'll be fine."

Poppy nodded, "Just so long as you're sure. Now, eat up. You're still healing, though I think you could leave tomorrow…"

Liz was telling Cal all about her first week of classes, announcing that she'd been one of the first ones to Transfigure her match into a needle. She beamed at him when he congratulated her, confessing that it had taken him much longer. Half of his meal had been devoured when his father and Jessica walked in. Severus looked very relieved to see him awake, clapping him on the shoulder before settling next to Liz on the bed. Cal wondered briefly that they might have grown closer in the time he'd been unconscious. He looked up at Jessica ……

"So … you were James Potter's sister?" he said calmly, studying the woman's face for her reaction. Jess's face grimaced slightly, before returning to a calm gaze.

"At one time, yes I was," she replied, her voice even. "I was his older sister, and subsequently the first Slytherin in the family. I was not classed as a Potter after I graduated, so I left to live with the Muggles…"

"And that's where you met my father," Cal finished, grinning when Jess looked away, flushing. "The final product sitting right there." He pointed at Liz and she giggled, Severus draping an arm around her and pulling the girl gently to rest against his side. Cal allowed himself a warm smile, seeing how his father seemed to enjoy the contact with his daughter. He let his smile wane when he told himself to do what he intended to do.

"I have something to tell you, both of you," he said evenly, glancing from Liz to Jess. "Actually, it might be best to just show you and explain later, so, I'm going to cast a Secrecy Charm on the both of you so you don't tell anyone what you learn. Dad, can you lock and proof the doors please?"

Severus held his gaze for a moment before nodding, waving his wand at the Infirmary doors, sealing them with the Imperturbable Charm. Callen waved his own wand at Jess and Liz, no longer needing to speak incantations.

"Right…" Cal breathed deeply, "Please don't freak out … everything will be explained…"

Jess looked apprehensive and sat on the bed beside Cal's, while Severus retook his place by Liz, again holding her to his side, holding her small hand in his as well. Cal swung his legs out from under the covers and stood, pushing back the slight dizziness that sprang up at the movement. He took one last look at the two onlookers, took another calming breath, and after a nod from his father, for the first time in four weeks, transformed into the Avatar.

***

"At least they know now, Cal," Hermione reasoned with him the next morning after giving him the notes on the classes he would have attended the past week. "Seeing you transform would have been quite a lot to take in to start off with, let alone the story explaining all that's happened recently. She'll come around once the news settles…"

Callen was very sullen, remembering the way Lizzy had stared up at him, half in wonder, half in terror. Jess had handled it all quite well and had actually hugged him awkwardly after his explanation, apologising for leaving him to his fate at the hands of the Dursley's. He reassured her that it was all for the better, now that he had his father, and hugged her back, asking playfully if he could call her 'Aunt Jess' in private, seeing how she was the sister of the man his mother had married. She'd chuckled lightly, wiping her eyes, and said that calling her Jess would be fine by her.

He'd then turned his attention to little Liz, and felt as though he'd been struck. She looked as though she'd barely listened to his tale, her face pasty white and her eyes wide and bright. He saw confusion in her aura, mixed with betrayal and fear. He didn't understand all of it, but didn't get to question the girl on it, for when he'd taken a small step towards her, she'd wrenched from Severus's grasp and sprinted from the room, the Imperturbable Charm breaking as the door was opened from the inside.

Cal had instantly reverted back to himself, fearing that someone could see him, but it didn't take the picture of Liz's face from his mind. He would never forget that look…. That night had been sleepless and Cal had simply laid in his bed, unmoving, until Hermione had visited in the morning. Now it was after breakfast and Cal had decided to head down to the Common room, wanting to talk to Lizzy about the previous night. He bid Hermione farewell, giving her a quick hug just before departing.

"Hey, Snape!"

Cal turned to see Draco Malfoy approaching him from the corner of the Den, looking a little agitated about something. This in itself made Cal anxious, having never seen the blonde drop the mask over his emotions so readily before.

"Mr Malfoy," he acknowledged, nodding when he stopped in front of him.

"Listen, I um … I want to apologize to you for the way I acted on the Train. I didn't really have any right to say what I did, and – so … yeah …" Draco looked away, looking very embarrassed and awkward. Callen allowed himself an inward grin, never believing he'd ever have heard an _apology_ from a Malfoy in his life.

"Apology accepted, Mr Malfoy," he replied. "However, I truly hope I don't hear you speaking that way to a fellow student again, for if I do, I _will_ make you sorry." Malfoy scowled. "The nature of one's bloodline has nothing to do with supreme ability or power, Mr Malfoy. In case you didn't notice, Muggleborn's can be just as, and even more powerful than Purebloods. Look at Miss Granger?"

"She's just a know-it-all," Malfoy spat, sneering up at him. "She has no real power behind her spells, she just knows a lot of them!"

"As compared to Mister's Crabbe and Goyle who, between them, have as much Magical ability as a Flobberworm," Cal retorted heatedly, stealing his fathers patented scowl and shooting it at Draco. "Blood means nothing. If you want, I can show you the perfect example of a powerful Half Blood?"

Draco harrumphed, "Some other time, Snape. You may be weird for a Slytherin when it comes to views on Blood, but you're all there in the Intimidation factor. I think you got that from your father. Oh, and before I forget, nice of you to save all our hides in Potions, Monday. I place high value on my life, so I owe you."

"How kind," Cal drawled silkily. "Now, Mr Malfoy, I'm searching for my sister. Have you seen her this morning?"

Draco paused, sifting through his thoughts, "No I haven't," he answered slowly, "at least, not this morning. She came running through last night though. Looked like hell … I tried getting her to tell me what was wrong, but she wouldn't even talk to me…"

Cal noticed Draco seemed hurt by this and wondered how he was with his sister. He'd bring it up later. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy. You've been most helpful." With that, Call turned and made his way to the Dorms, intending to catch up on the weeks work before the end of the day. He'd keep his senses open for Lizzy coming nearby. Normally he'd just find her and Paft, but after last night he didn't want to frighten the poor girl off.

***

"… so I just took a little extra from the cupboard to ruin his potion! I didn't know it was going to blow up like that!"

Fred shook his head, his hands already balled into fists as he paced back and forth in Ron's room, George in much the same temperament, only he was seated at the desk by the bed. Ron sat up at the head of the bed.

"And I thought _we_ were crazy at school," George muttered, looking over at Fred who nodded. Ron just sighed heavier and fell back against the headboard.

"You could have _killed_ someone, Ron!" he snapped after seeing Ron's reaction, standing from the chair quickly and leaning over his little brother in intimidation. "Now, our jokes might not have always been the safest, but no one was ever in danger of dying!"

"He's supposed to be your friend, Ron," Fred pleaded, truly at a loss as to why Ron was acting the way he was. Jealousy with him only ever went so far, but this was different. He'd seen it a few times during the talk he and George had started at lunch. Ron would appear steadfast in his actions for a time, before suddenly something would change. He would appear very sorrowful of how the whole situation had panned out between Callen and himself, looking as though he knew he was in the wrong all the time … but then something would slam a shutter over his eyes, making Ron cold and angry again.

They might not show it all the time, but he and George loved their brother very much, and both wanted to know where he'd disappeared to. They wanted him back…

"You never gave us an answer to our question the last time we spoke to you, Ron," Fred continued. "Why do you hate him so much? He's still Harry underneath it all, only now he's got a father. So what if he's not human, he's still the same guy…"

*

"Bill!"

Bill Weasley jumped and whirled around, quickly hiding the Twin's Extendable Ear behind his back.

"Mum! Fancy you being up here – "

"Don't give me that! Hand it over…" Bill reluctantly brought his hand from behind his back and handed his mother the length of stringy material. "You shouldn't be eavesdropping on them anyway. People use Silencing Charms for a reason, Bill…"

"I'll say," he muttered under his breath, still wrapping his mind around what he'd heard, piecing it together slowly. Seeing his mother's inquisitive face, Bill spoke louder, "I just wanted to hear what they were going to say to Ron, is all," he explained. "I thought they'd praise him or something, but they're actually a little miffed…"

Before she could ask any more questions, Bill quickly told her he had to go for a bit. After grabbing his robe, he gave his mother a quick kiss goodbye, before Apperating straight to Hogsmeade. He had a few people to yell at…


	43. Make Ups and Falling Outs

Hey there everyone!! I'm very sorry for the long wait, so this chapter is a little longer than I usually have. News though, I've made up a Yahoo Group, and the address (without the spaces) is: http:// groups.yahoo.com / group / kamahpfanart

It has the start of this story, and will soon contain my other Fanfiction story. It already has some of the artwork I've done for "A Life of Lies" and I would appreciate any comments on it.

Anyway, enough rambling from me. Here's your newest chapter, and please review!!

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Chapter Forty Three: Make Ups and Falling Outs

"Hey Hermione," said Ginny as she entered the Common Room, sitting in front of the fire. Hermione paused at the Portrait, silently cursing, knowing that the perceptive girl had noticed her absence from the Tower all morning. Luckily, only a couple of Second Years were still in the room, engrossed in a game of Exploding Snap.

"Hey Ginny," Hermione answered, plastering a half attentive expression on her features as she made to head up the staircase leading to the Girls Dormitory.

"Why do you visit him?" Hermione stopped in her tracks, half way across the Commons. "Are you so eager to replace Harry that you'd settle for a Slytherin? A Snape, no less?"

"Ginny, I'm not out to replace Harry," Hermione replied quietly, turning around and walking over to stand in front of the downcast redhead. "No one could ever replace him…"

"Come off it, Hermione, I know that you've been visiting him in the Infirmary! You've been there most of the morning – "

"And I'm suddenly forbidden to have a mind of my own?" Hermione was growing angry. Since when was she unable to do what she wanted? "I don't see anything wrong with Callen, and as you don't know anything about him, you can't tell me to stop associating with him!"

"Oh, so you're on a first name basis with him now?" Ginny scowled.

Hermione fumed. "He saved mine, and everyone else's life on Monday over something your dear _brother_ orchestrated … I think that gives our whole class enough reason to visit him, no matter their House. He could have been killed doing what he did…"

Ginny harrumphed, "A selfless Snape … who'd have thought it…?"

"You don't even know him, Ginny," Hermione stated quietly. "Not all the Slytherins are like Draco Malfoy. If you made the effort to see him as an individual, I think you'd like him … Lizzy too."

"Who?"

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly, silently relieved that the argument was somewhat over. "Snape's other child, Elizabeth. She's really very sweet…"

*

__

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Liz thought savagely, pacing around the Lake since the early hours of the morning. _"How could you run out on your own brother?!!!"_ Sure, Callen had ended up being an Avatar; one of the horror bedtime stories kids went to bed with, so he might also have been Harry Potter, who she'd thought had been dead for the past three weeks … but _still_.

"At least I know where I got mine from then," she muttered, pausing her feet to look out across the still water, squinting in the midday sunlight. Cal told her, so she'd tell him too. That and she'd apologize profusely for her reaction in the Infirmary. Setting her jaw, Lizzy set off back to the school at a quick pace, all the while praying that she hadn't ruined her relationship with Callen. She'd grow to like him very much, even if he was only conscious around her for less than a day in total.

***

Severus sighed irritably as he walked out of the Library, wishing that he knew his daughter better than he did. He'd gone looking for her not long ago, after discovering that she wasn't in the Slytherin Commons. He found it strange that Draco Malfoy had been the one to tell him she wasn't there instead of Callen, and when he'd queried over his son, was told that he'd been holed up in his Dorm for the past hour and a half.

Feeling a touch of something pass through his chest at the comment, he'd looked in on Callen, to find him already half finished the homework he'd been given the past week. But more than that, he could see that he was upset, even if he refused to show it. Severus remembered the look that had passed over his son's face as Elizabeth fled from his presence, and could honestly say that he didn't want to see it there again.

Even he could see that, in the short time they'd been around each other, Callen had grown startlingly fond of Lizzy, and that she had cut him deeply with her actions, even if she hadn't meant to.

Jessica had apologised to Cal for Liz before she'd exited after her daughter, leaving the two men alone with their thoughts. At first, Severus had been angry and upset with Liz … but then, she was only almost twelve. She wasn't as hardened to the world that Callen had been at her age … They should have broken it to her in a gentler way…

"Professor Snape!!!"

Severus whipped around, startled when he saw a fiery, red-headed, person heading his way. It took a moment for him to recognise the man as Bill Weasley, the eldest of the Weasley brood. For a minute, Sev just stood there, baffled, wondering what had brought the Curse Breakers temper down on him.

"Mr Weasley? Might I inquire as to your presence here?" said Severus, polite but stern.

"Can we go somewhere a little more private, Professor? The Headmasters office, say?" said Bill, his voice hard and forceful. Severus could tell that this was not a simple request.

"Certainly, Mr Weasley," Sev replied, nodding stiffly, feeling rather put on the spot. He'd never seen Bill in such a mood before, and it unnerved him. The walk to the Headmasters office felt as though it took forever, the chilly silence between the two of them almost palpable. The Stone Gargoyle leapt aside as Severus muttered the password, and the two men stepped onto the Spiral Staircase. At the closed door, Sev raised his hand to knock, but was interrupted by the sagely voice of the Headmaster.

"Come in Severus, Mr Weasley…"

Sighing, Severus obeyed and opened the wooden door, stepping into the round office to allow Bill forward.

"Professor Dumbledore," Bill nodded, still looking like a block of ice.

"Mr Weasley," Dumbledore nodded back in answer. "What brings you here in such a state of unrest?"

"Is Harry still alive?"

Severus looked at Dumbledore sharply, feeling a jolt shoot through him at Bill's words. Had someone let the secret out? His first thought was Ron, but then Sev remembered that Callen had cast the Secrecy Charm on him during their first Potions class. He'd asked him about the small hand gesture he'd seen his son perform after he'd woken from the accident.

"I don't understand, Mr Weasley," said Dumbledore, looking politely confused. "Unless memory fails me, we buried Mr Potter three weeks ago…"

"Not according to Fred and George," Bill bit back, looking more and more aggravated at the two men in front of him. He turned to Severus, "I heard them talking to Ron about what he did to that Callen kid in your Potions class, Professor. Is Harry posing as your son? Is he really still alive??"

***

Callen was sitting on his bed, finishing up his Transfiguration homework for the week, when a very soft knocking sound reached his ears. He looked up and was stilled by Elizabeth, standing timidly in the door of the Dorm. He put his quill down and hesitantly got to his feet, a spot in his chest aching as she continued to simply stand there.

"Lizzy?" he asked, hearing his voice rasp slightly. Inwardly, Cal wished she'd come to talk, but another part was worried that something was wrong. He came around the edge of his bed and started to walk towards her, before remembering that she'd fled the last time he'd done so, and stopped.

Not sure how to act around Liz now, Cal lowered his eyes to the floor in front of him, trying to rid himself of the closed throat that had sprung on him. He blinked a few times, only then seeing the blurriness around his vision as his eyes burned. Gathering himself, Cal looked up again, only to see that Liz had moved into the room while he wasn't looking, and now stood only two feet from him, leaning backwards to look up.

Unsure, Callen slowly lowered himself to his knees, bringing himself to an equal footing with the younger girl. "Liz?"

It was then that Cal saw the tears brimming in her blue eyes, and he was startled when she suddenly flung herself onto him, wrapping her thin arms around his neck and hanging on for dear life. Cal responded instantly and slipped his own arms around Liz's middle, whispering to her soothingly, stroking her long hair as he heard her weeping on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered desperately, her voice muffled by his clothing. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to run out on you, really. I don't hate you, I couldn't … it was just so overwhelming – "

"Shhh," Cal hushed Liz's rambling gently, weaving his fingers through her thick hair. "It's okay, bud … It's okay … I'm not mad at you." Cal blinked back his tears, never feeling such a rush of relief and gratitude before in his life. Lizzy still liked him … That was what mattered at this moment… Callen gently pulled back from Liz, smiling softly as he cupped her cheek. "You had me worried for a while there, bud."

Liz gave him a very watery smile and looked down, resting her hand against Cal's broad forearm. "I know, I'm sorry … but when you changed it just felt so overpowering I had to leave – "

"Overpowering?" Cal asked, frowning concernedly. "What was overpowering?"

Liz sighed heavily and broke from Cal's grip, walked over and sat on his bed, fidgeting with the edge of her jumper. Confused, Cal got to his feet and sat beside her, looking down, and placed his arm over her shoulders.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I have some powers too," Liz blurted out suddenly, looking at her lap, her arms wrapped around her. "It's from Dad, but they aren't as good as your's…"

Cal's frown deepened and he knelt on the floor in front of her, gently taking her hands and holding them. "What do you mean?"

Liz sighed again. "I'm a bit of an Empath," she said quietly. "I can tell what people are feeling, but I can sort of feel everyone's Magical power as well. Dad is enough to make me woozy if he didn't suppress it all the time, but when you changed, I just had to leave. I couldn't stay in the room with you, it was just an overload…"

Cal couldn't help himself and he let out a relieved laugh, pulling Liz into his arms when he saw the affronted look on her face. "Is that why you ran? And here I was thinking it was because you were angry for not telling you about me!"

Liz also let out a chuckle, "Oh, I don't care that you used to be – you know … _him_. I never even met him before. He's dead, remember. You're just my brother, Supreme Magical Being or not."

Cal smiled warmly and gently kissed Liz on the forehead. "I don't think I have to tell you how happy that makes me?" he whispered.

Liz shook her head and gave him a small smile. "Not at all."

A light knock on the door interrupted them and Cal looked over Liz's head to see Malfoy, looking a little uneasy.

"Mr Malfoy?"

"Professor Snape just Fire Called. He's asked that you and Elizabeth meet him in the Headmaster's office," said Draco.

Cal and Liz shot each other a confused look before they both nodded and made their way out of the Snake's Den.

***

"I'm not pleased with what Ron did, you know, Hermione," said Ginny, not looking up from her Charms textbook. "I know people keep telling me to congratulate him for what he did, but I happen to agree with you on the subject." She looked up to see Hermione's rather stunned face staring at her. "A grudge against the father is no real reason to try and kill the son … it's no reason to try and kill anyone, really…"

Hermione gave Ginny a twisted smile, "Well, I guess we should feel grateful that the Gryffindor's are pretty much the only ones that want to praise Ron for his idiocy. Members of the other houses were hurt in that stunt as well, and I don't believe many are impressed with your brother at the moment."

The portrait hole opened and the two girls were a little surprised when Professor McGonagall strode into the Common Room, looking bleak.

"Professor?" asked Hermione, closing her Potions book.

"Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, if you would both follow me to the Headmaster's office? There is something that needs to be discussed."

Confused, the two girls hastily abandoned their reading and followed their Head of House out of the Common Room.

*

"Dumbledore, what's going on?" Molly Weasley demanded as soon as she stepped through the Headmasters fireplace, Arthur following almost immediately afterward. "What's so urgent? Has something happened? Bill, why are you here?" she asked, turning to her oldest when she noticed him.

"I had something to bring up with the Headmaster," Bill answered quietly, still a little shocked when his suspicions had been proven correct, even if he hadn't been told the whole story. "He decided that it was best if he let the rest of you in on it as well."

"It should be Callen's decision who is, and who is not told of this," Severus scowled, deeply disappointed with Albus and his spontaneous decision to inform the other Weasley's of Callen's deception. "It is his secret to tell. No one else should dictate when he is to reveal it!"

"I understand, Severus," said Dumbledore placidly, raising a calming hand. "But seeing how half of the family know of it already, I see no point in keeping it from the others any longer…"

"And what of Percival?" said Severus, crossing his arms, ignoring the stumped expressions the two Weasley parents were shooting him. "He's untrustworthy and kisses Fudges shoes like the spineless beggar he is!"

"Severus," Dumbledore warned, but the rest of what he was going to say was interrupted when Professor McGonagall walked in, with Hermione and Ginny behind her.

"Mum? Dad, Bill? What are you doing here?" Ginny asked blankly, silently allowing her Mother and brother to give her a hug each.

"You can't be serious?" Hermione blurted out as soon as she saw who was present, and guessing correctly what was about to happen. "He would _never_ – "

"I know, Miss Granger," Severus cut in, knowing exactly what she was saying. "That's what I've tried to tell our esteemed Headmaster, but he refuses to listen to me."

"Wait, so, Cal doesn't even _know_ about this?" Hermione gasped. "But, he didn't want to tell them! Look what happened with Ron! The Twins are an exception – "

"I've already heard the arguments, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore calmly. "I know he will not be very pleased with the idea, but I don't think he should keep such a thing from those that have helped him so, over the years."

"It's not your decision!" Hermione snapped, surprising herself with the forcefulness of her voice, along with the majority of the attendants. Only Snape and Dumbledore seemed unaffected by her abruptness. "Sorry…"

Dumbledore waved it off, "Quite all right, Miss Granger. I understand – "

There was a loud knock on the door and Dumbledore waved the door open, revealing a chuckling Callen and a beaming Elizabeth, who was currently riding on her brothers back, her legs hooked through his arms in the piggy back. All amusement left Cal's face however, when he saw who was in the office. Liz had apparently sensed something, for she slid from his back and stepped inside, looking up at him worriedly.

"No," said Cal harshly, glaring at Dumbledore. "I won't!"

"William here has already figured it out, Har – "

"SHUT UP!!! Don't call me that!"

"Albus, what's this all about?" Molly cut in, glaring at Cal for his tone with Dumbledore. "Who are you?"

"The person your son tried to kill last week," Cal answered coolly. "Even if it wasn't completely intentional…"

"Well as far as the rest of the world knows, Harry … you're already dead."

Everyone fell silent at Bill's sudden statement, though not all were for the same reasons. Moll, Arthur and Ginny grew very pale and stared at Callen unabashedly, while Cal, Hermione, Liz and Severus flushed at Bill's lack of foresight and tact.

"At the rate things are going you might as well announce it all to the rest of the whole _fucking_ world!" Cal snarled, not caring about the stares that were being shot his way for his language. The Weasley's looked as though they were about to pass out and Cal didn't want to have to explain anything again. He looked at Lizzy and asked a silent question with his eyes. She seemed to understand and nodded. "I assume, Headmaster, that you will inform our guests of my story whether I wish it or not, so I'll leave you the honour of doing so. Lizzy?" he finished, holding out his hand and grasping hers tightly. He nodded angrily, looked at Hermione and his father, and Pafted himself and Liz from the office, making the Weasley's gasp in surprise.

"That didn't go very well," Severus commented idly, as though it was nothing important. "And if it weren't for the fear of another Ronald reaction, I would follow my sons example, but I wish to stay and defend him this time, should any one of you decide to change your opinion of the boy like your son did…"

White faced and breathless, Molly turned to Dumbledore and asked, "Albus, was that boy really Harry?"

Dumbledore sighed, still staring where Cal had been standing, before shifting his gaze to Minerva. She didn't look happy and shook her head at him, lowering her eyes in disappointment. He knew she wasn't upset at Callen, but it was with himself that her disapproval lay. He couldn't explain why the fact sent a pang through his chest. Slowly, Dumbledore set his eyes on Molly, Arthur and Ginny, who were all looking at him expectantly.

__

"This is going to be a long day…"


	44. Reflecting

Hey there guy's!! New chapter for you all. Well, I never expected people to react quite that way to Dumbledore's decision to tell the other Weasley's, but to say it was enlightening would be bland. I loved reading the different opinions about it. I'm also relieved that the majority of you agree with my opinion about Dumbledore going a bit too far that time. That was what I'd hoped to get across, and I'm happy it has. Someone mentioned that Liz wouldn't have a problem with the Pafting, and before any of you jump in and bring up what happened with Hermione, I already thought of it. Cal's figured out how to Paft people now, by focusing on his passengers Core and taking all of it with him, rather than just jumping and leaving half of it behind. Not that Lizzy needs it anyway. She's Empathic and a minor Scanner.

Don't forget to review please and tell me what I'm doing right and wrong. I won't improve otherwise!!

Chapter Forty Four: Reflecting

The sun sank towards the horizon, casting the towers and alcoves of the grand Castle into shadow, almost as though it was reflecting the mood of the selected special few that lived within it's walls. A cool wind blew as the first star shone in the sky, foretelling of the storm that was sure to beat on the aging stones before the end of the night. Long before, the other students had sought refuge from the night within the halls and corridors, laughing and joking about the antics of the lesson free day, enjoying their free time before classes resumed the next day.

Two sole figures were still at the mercy of nature, yet to anyone who might have glanced up at the Astronomy Tower, they would seem like stone sculptures, having passed through the ages like the parapet they rested on.

The smaller of the two sat on the others lap, as both their legs dangled over the ledge, two powerful arms wrapped securely around her middle as his chin sat atop her crown.

"Are you cold?" Callen asked softly, feeling Liz shiver lightly in his arms. She nodded a little and Cal uncased his wings, letting them fold around them both, blocking the chill. Liz gasped lightly when she saw them, and Cal could feel her gently run her fingers down the inner side.

"I didn't pay attention to them yesterday," she said quietly, though Cal could hear the awe in her voice. "They're beautiful, Cal…"

Cal snorted, "No they're not. They're just a piece of something I wish wasn't there."

Liz didn't answer, but turned awkwardly so she could face him. Cal looked down at her for a moment, but sighed and averted his eyes quickly. He began to regret speaking his mind already, not really wanting anyone else to fully realize just how much he hated what the revelation about himself had caused in his life. The only bonus was that he had a family … but in order to claim it, he'd had to give up one of his friendships, and take on his alter ego. He didn't know which was better…

"I don't regret finding my brother," Liz whispered, her voice wavering a little as she picked up on his feelings. "I know you don't like how you were made, Cal, but don't let it cloud what's been for the better since it happened."

"Even when Dumbledore starts taking away my free will?" Cal shot back, though his voice wasn't harsh, only filled with an inner weariness that he hadn't started feeling until his change. He shook his head. "I'm sick of it. His "It's for the best" ways cost me my Godfather last term. I won't be his tool anymore…"

Lizzy only sighed softly and turned back around, leaning back into him while gently stroking the inside of his Midnight wings.

***

"They should be back by now," Jess muttered angrily as she paced back and forth in Severus's chambers, the mentioned Slytherin sitting calmly in his plush recliner, arms crossed and watching his other half wear a hole in his floor. "What if something's happened to them?" she added worriedly, stopping her feet and turning to face Severus.

"Jessica," said Severus soothingly, "she is with the only Avatar in existence. Do you honestly think that anything would happen to her? Callen wouldn't allow it while he still stood. Don't worry, I'm sure that he's only cooling off, and she's decided to tag along for the ride. They'll be fine."

Severus turned his eyes back to the fire in the grate, thankful for the calm exterior he could portray thanks to his spying days. Outwardly, he was cool and calm, but it was only for Jessica's benefit. He was still a bundle of nerves from his encounter with the Weasley's in Albus's office earlier on that day. He'd watched them as Albus had told them of Harry Potter's wretched home life, of his stay at Hogwarts, and of his Transformation into the Avatar. They were told of his own involvement in the whole ordeal, and the obvious fact that he was Callen's father was reaffirmed. When Albus had reached Potter's idea to fake his death at the hands of his relatives, Molly had burst into tears and Arthur wasn't looking much better. Ginny had been startlingly stone faced throughout the whole discussion, but Hermione had told him she'd keep an eye on the younger girl for some time, just in case. He was grateful to her for all she'd done for his son, and for her assistance in this matter.

In a way, it was like a weight had been lifted from all of their shoulders, once the Weasley's had been told. But he knew that it should have been Callen's decision to tell them regardless. Another thing Sev was grateful for, was that Ronald seemed to be the exception. The elders seemed to be very sympathetic with 'Harry's' case and thought no less of the boy as they had beforehand, as was the case with William. Ginny was still a bit unknown, but Severus had little worries in that area. He believed that the hardest thing that the Weasley's had to deal with during the conversation was the Dursley's treatment of Harry, and that he'd had to put them through his death.

"Severus, are you all right?"

Sev blinked out of his daze at Jessica's voice, and looked over at her to find she'd been standing by his side, trying to rouse him. Her hand was still on his shoulder.

"My apologies, Jessica, I was lost in thought," said Sev, shifting into a more comfortable position in his chair. He glanced at the old clock on the wall over the hearth. "It's getting quite late – "

"They aren't back yet, Sev," Jess hissed, blatantly worried over the two children. "It's after midnight!"

"Well, you wouldn't know if we were back or not, if you'd bothered to look in on the Dorms every now and then, would you?" a deep and coy voice rang out, accompanied with light girlish giggling.

Sev and Jess turned towards the dining room table, only to see Callen sitting on it, smiling, with Lizzy sitting on his lap, biting her lip to stop from laughing aloud. The two adults were slightly startled, not only by their sudden arrival, but also by the large set of black wings sprouting from Cal's back, that turned into black smoke before their eyes and disappeared.

Cal looked down and whispered loudly into Liz's ear, "Hmm, I think we broke them? I've never seen Dad gape like a Goldfish before … It's not very fetching, is it?"

Liz snorted into her hand before breaking out into laughter, slapping Cal on the leg as she slid off his lap and walked over to her mother. Jess hadn't moved and also had her mouth hanging open. Liz walked up to her and raised her hand, gently pushing her mothers jaw up.

"Codfish," the girl giggled playfully, before wrapping her arms around Jess's waist and giving her a heartfelt hug. This seemed to break the spell on the two adults, for Jessica made a small choking noise before wrapping her arms around Lizzy, holding onto her as though her life depended on it. "It's okay, Mum, we're fine. I'm sorry we worried you…"

Sev looked over at Cal and saw he was torn between enjoying himself for startling them witless, and cursing himself for making Jess worry so over her daughter. Seeing his sons shoulders slump a little, he knew which of those options Cal had decided to use.

Calmly, Sev made his way over to his son, stopping when he seemed to stiffen at his presence.

"Where were you?" Sev asked neutrally.

"The Astronomy Tower, Sir," Cal answered instantly, not looking him in the eye.

Sev nodded in understanding, even though Cal didn't see it. "I see. Callen, I was under the assumption that you were at least partially Telepathic?"

Cal's eyes flew up to his own and Sev saw that his son had completely forgotten about that. He even let out a light chuckle to let him know it wasn't a reproachful suggestion. "It's okay, Cal," he assured, seeing his son about to apologize for his forgetfulness. "Just remember to tell me where you are, or that you're fine … or _something_? It would avoid occurrences such as this in the future. Don't apologise," he added as he saw Cal open his mouth to do just that again. Cal closed his mouth with a small smile and nodded, sighing lightly.

"Mum, if you don't let me go I'm going to pass out," said Liz, her voice strained from the pressure Jess was applying to her lungs.

Jess hastily complied and knelt down, apologizing repeatedly. Callen laughed.

***

"I still can't believe that it took a week to fix the Potions Room," Malfoy commented at breakfast the next morning. Cal wasn't listening and had his focus on the redhead sitting across the Hall. Hermione was sitting next to her and met his eyes.

__

"How'd she take it?" he asked, smirking when she jumped a little.

__

'Don't do that!' Hermione admonished, her face saying all in how annoyed she was at him for pulling something like that on her. _'As for Ginny … Well, she seems to be taking it rather well, though she hasn't really spoken to me about it. I'm just waiting for her to blow up…'_

Cal nodded slightly, _"Okay, thanks 'Mione."_

__

'Cal?' Hermione asked just before he broke the connection.

He looked up at her and frowned, _"What?"_

Hermione bit her lip, _'Is what Professor Dumbledore told us about the Dursley's true? Did they really … _beat_ you?'_

Cal felt a bucket of ice fill his stomach at Hermione's words, and instead of answering her, he threw the filthiest look he could manage up at the Head Table.

"Cal are you all right?" Liz asked from beside him, obviously able to feel the undefinable rage that had pierced his ready made walls.

Instead of answering, Cal merely glared at Dumbledore for another moment, something the older man couldn't miss, then stormed from the Great Hall, ignoring his sister calling out to him.

*

Obsidian eyes watched as his son threw Albus a filthy look before standing abruptly and storming from the Hall. Not a moment after the doors had swung shut again, he spotted the Granger girl also leave her table, looking quite distressed about something, and follow Callen's path through the doors. He glanced around and saw that a number of students had noticed the small disturbance, but soon brushed it aside. Only Miss Weasley and his daughter seemed to be overtly worried about what had just happened.

Slowly, he turned his eyes to Albus, frowning in confusion. Why would Callen shoot a look that could kill at the Headmaster? He'd seemed fine the night before, and most of Breakfast?

"Sev, what was that about?" Jess asked, also eyeing the small disturbance.

Severus glanced at his daughter to find her looking up at him. He frowned at her in question, but she only bit her lip and shrugged, obviously as unsure of what had occurred. He nodded at her before glancing at Dumbledore again, seeing that the older man was looking rather confused at the moment as well. Sev sighed and stood from the table, determined to find out what was bothering his son before the end of the day. For the moment though, he had his first Potions lesson since the explosion to prepare for, and this time, he didn't have to worry about homicidal Gryffindors.

***

"Cal!"

Callen ignored Hermione as he stormed down to the Potions classroom, a ball of fury gathering in his gut at the thought of what Dumbledore had let out of the bag the night before. He'd never wanted anyone to find out how the Dursley's had treated him during the Summer, and now, everyone that mattered to him did. He didn't want or need their sympathy or pity.

Loud footfalls announced that Hermione had decided to run to catch up to him, and Cal didn't see the point in trying to avoid her that much. She was one of his first friends and had stuck by him through everything over the years, even after nearly leading her to her death the previous term. She was still there for him…

"Cal, please stop! I'm sorry I brought it up – "

Cal turned around just as Hermione reached him, skidding to a stop just in front of him. "Don't apologise, Hermione," he said, downcast. "I never told you, or Ron, or anyone about it. It's only natural that once you found out about it you'd ask me." He grinned at her, "It's not in your nature to not understand something completely."

Hermione smiled at him, mock annoyed, and slapped him playfully on the arm. "Don't be a prat," she scolded, still smiling. "But really," she stated, turning serious again, "how long have they treated you like that?"

Callen sobered quickly and sighed, scuffing his boot on the floor and falling back against the wall. "For as long as I can remember," he answered quietly. "It wasn't really that bad, but summer just gone was the worst one. Uncle Vernon had found out that … Sirius, had been killed, so I didn't have him to use as a threat anymore. That's why I was brought to Hogwarts for the rest of the summer. When Dad came to check up on me, he found out about it, and when he tried to take me, Uncle Vernon fired his rifle at him. I jumped in the way…"

"And that's when all the things about being an Avatar started to come out," Hermione finished softly.

"Yeah," said Cal. "It was a change to go from always being told you were garbage to find out that you actually are…"

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Hermione gasped, aghast. Cal looked up at her for a moment, but lowered his eyes almost immediately. He didn't have to vocalise his answer, for it was written on his features. Hermione had spotted it easily. "Cal, you know that's not – "

"Not what?!" Cal cut in forcefully. "Not true? Of course it is, Hermione! I was a failed experiment, fit to be destroyed by my own maker! I know it was Voldemort, but that isn't the point … My own creator saw me and mine as something so vile he had to be rid of us! If that's not garbage then I'd love to hear what you think it is!"

Hermione stepped up to him and placed a hand on his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You're not garbage, Cal, nor a monster or anything else that you think of yourself. You are so special. Have you ever even seen yourself when you transform?" Hermione sighed and shook her head. "You're Exotic, Cal. You're a beautiful creature – "

Cal snorted and frowned heavily.

"You _are_," Hermione insisted. "I'll never think otherwise of you, Cal. You should look in a mirror one day and tell me what you see…"

Cal looked at Hermione speculatively, seeing nothing that suggested she was mocking him, and that she was being very serious. Inwardly, Cal still didn't believe a word she'd said about him being, _exotic_, of all things. He had a rough idea of what he looked like, judging from the changes he'd felt when he'd first completed his transformation, in comparison to what he'd seen in the Infirmary's bathroom when he'd had his first initial change. He knew he wasn't anything pretty to look at … yet Hermione thought so.

He waved his hand absently and a full length mirror appeared in the middle of the Potions corridor. Quickly expanding his senses, Harry detected no one that didn't already know of him was in the immediate vicinity, and transformed.

It was so fast now that Cal felt as though the rapidly enlarging muscles would leap off of him, before everything settled down just as rapidly, his tail flicking absently around his feet and his wings sitting comfortably a little way from his back. His uniform was a little snug, and Cal was glad that the clothing he wore changed size a little with him. It wouldn't do to have to replace all of his clothing every time he transformed.

Taking only a second to enjoy Hermione's stunned expression, Cal turned and for the first time, saw his completed form.


	45. We Have a Problem

Hey there everyone!! Sorry I took so long with this chapter, but I got a bit stuck and couldn't figure out which way I wanted to go. I hope you like my final decision, but if you think I'm a dolt for it, make sure to tell me. I'll try and make up for it in later chapters.

Also, It was pointed out to me that Hermione already knew of Harry's treatment at the Dursley's before the incident with Dumbledore. I went back to check, and they were right. Silly me, forgetting things I've already said …. So, just pretend that Hermione told Cal that Dumbledore told the Weasley's about it instead. It would still garner the same reaction from him, I'm sure.

Anyway, onward we go, and please tell me what you think, when I truly screw up and such. It helps a lot. (And to whoever mentioned my increasing the rating … yes, it was mainly for the language, but it will soon apply for violence as well. Those of you thinking about any smut will be disappointed. I love to read it, but can't write it for the life of me.)

Chapter Forty Five: "We have a problem…"

Almost as soon as Cal looked at his reflection, he looked away, feeling the same repulsiveness as he'd done the first time he saw himself in the boys lavatory, just after his first transformation. Even after that small glance though, Cal saw that he really hadn't changed all that much. He was noticeably taller and a little larger than he had been, but his skin was still a shimmering silver, still had a set of horns sprouting from his forehead, had long canines, and vicious, clawed, hocked three-toed feet.

The only thing Cal found he actually liked about himself was his wings. Shiny black with hues of violet, burgundy and navy blue, where the light hit the feathers right. After all … they gave him the ability to fly, something he'd loved doing ever since he was young. He loved how all his troubles stayed on the ground when he left it, letting him enjoy a few short hours where he was just another person, enjoying the thrill of flight. It felt even better now that he could do it under his own power.

He felt Hermione lay a gentle hand on his forearm and he looked down at her. She was smiling at his reflection.

Frowning, Cal asked, "Why are you smiling? There's no reason for it…"

"Yes there is," Hermione insisted, craning her neck to stare up at him imploringly. "Just forget for a minute about _what_ you are … _Harry_," she ended in a whisper.

Cal startled slightly at hearing Hermione whisper his old name. It seemed like a different lifetime, yet he had been called that only a month ago.

"Harry … You aren't some hideous monster," Hermione continued, looking back at the reflection. "Just take a moment to really look at yourself. Please…?"

Callen sighed, and seeing the pleading in Hermione's eyes, nodded slowly and turned back to the mirror.

*

Severus sneaked a look around the corner, watching the pair silently. He'd heard their whole conversation. A part of him ached when he'd heard of Cal speaking about himself the way he had, but another part was furious at his careless decision to transform into the Avatar right in the middle of the hallway! Of all the stupid…!

Sev took a deep breath to calm himself and resumed his gazing, feeling a swell of gratitude at what Hermione had told his son. He too, was startled when she spoke his old name so softly, but he let it slip from his mind when he watched his son stare back into the mirror.

Severus took this time to study his son too, and found he agreed with Hermione's view on the subject. If not for the few differences that clearly told of Callen's inhumanness, he would say that his son was the embodiment of physical perfection. Cal was both powerful and graceful, and his midnight wings were simply exquisite to look at. He smiled a little when he heard some of the same comments repeated by the young man down the hall. He seemed to be quite taken with the wings on his back.

A sudden commotion from down the hall and around the corner, startled Sev into action and he darted around into the hall Cal and Hermione were occupying.

"Callen!" he barked, halting in shock as Callen spun around, clearly taken by surprise, and collected the mirror with his wing, sending it crashing noisily to the stone floor. Hermione let out a small shriek and threw her arms over her face protectively, as the glass flew in every direction. Sev lowered his own arm and glared at his son, momentarily taken over by his frustration at the boy, and forgetting about the students he'd heard heading in their direction.

"What the _hell_ is the matter with you?!" he hissed, striding forward purposefully, his robes billowing out behind him menacingly. "Didn't you even _think_ of the risk you've taken doing this?!! You were startled by me, Callen, do you think you'd have reacted fast enough if it was anyone else? How could you be so foolish?"

Cal shrank back and, despite his larger size, seemed smaller than the glowering man before him.

"Revert right now, young man!" Sev demanded, ignoring Hermione's voice speaking to him. Callen hadn't moved and Severus was starting to lose his temper. Echoing voices reached them and Sev spun around, panic starting to swell up in his chest as they got louder. He grit his teeth and drew his wand, hoping he wouldn't have to modify anyone's memory, before turning back to his son for one last attempt to get him to Revert.

He stopped dead when he saw Cal had done so while he'd turned away. It was also at that time that Severus saw how jittery his son was, his arms crossed over his chest in a protective manner, his gaze lingering warily on the wand in his hand.

Sighing agitatedly, Sev tossed that aside and pointed his wand at the shattered mirror, intending to Vanish it. It stayed where it was. Pushing down his anger as much as possible, Sev glared over at Cal and pointed at the mess on the floor.

"Get rid of that right now!"

Cal flinched but Severus ignored it. The boy waved his hand and the twisted metal and shards of glass disappeared as though it was never there. In a flash, Severus's hand whipped out and slapped the hand Cal had just used, making the boy jump violently and stare at his father almost fearfully.

"Use your wand, you idiot boy!" Sev snarled, looking over his shoulder as the first students started trickling into the corridor. Composing himself, Severus took a step backwards and stared at Callen coolly. "I think it's about time you stopped showing off," he leant forward and hissed in a whisper, "_Mister Potter_."

Callen was visibly wounded at his words, but Severus was too annoyed at the boy to care. He needed to realise how dangerous his behaviour had been and being nice about it would be like talking to a brick wall.

"Get in there," he ordered, pointing to his newly fixed classroom, "We shall be discussing your punishment later."

Strangely, Callen seemed to pale a little at this, but it was gone in an instant, replaced with a cold slate, almost sending chills down Severus's spine at the sight of the sudden change. His concern spiked a little, but it soon was forgotten with the prospect of teaching the group filing into the room after his son. The last one through before he entered himself, was Granger. She glared at him furiously for a moment, making him quirk an eyebrow at her in annoyance, before she angrily sighed and shook her head, stalking over to her seat, shooting a worried glance at his son as she did so.

Severus let his eyes travel to Callen as well, and saw that he was sitting rigidly in his seat, staring straight ahead, not a single emotion recognisable on him. This time, Severus did shiver, shaking it off as the dampness of the Dungeons, before shutting the door and heading to the front of the room, ready to begin the day.

*

"Mr Snape, you will remain please," said Severus as his Potions class came to an end. Malfoy spared a moment of his packing up to glance between the two of them, but soon felt the calling of his stomach and headed to Lunch. Granger was also lingering, seeming to be torn between letting them both be, and concern for Callen. Severus shot her a glare but instead of making her wither, she straightened up and stood defiantly where she was, clearly with no intention of moving.

"Is there something you wished to discuss, Miss Granger?" he asked bitingly, already feeling his frustration build up. "If not, this is a private talk and you shall not be present for it … regardless of your involvement."

"It's okay, Hermione," Callen spoke up quietly, his eyes staring at some point on the opposite wall. "You aren't the one that did something wrong." He looked over at her worried face and gave her a twisted smile, lacking any warmth, "Don't worry about it. I'll see you in a bit."

Hermione studied his face, "Are you sure?" Cal nodded. "Okay," Hermione huffed, tossing her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see you later."

Severus watched her leave and refocused on Callen, who was staring blankly at him. "Judging by your less than perfect performance during the lesson, Callen, I would think you have been pondering the consequences of your actions from this morning?"

Sev saw a muscle in Cal's jaw clench.

"Yes Sir," he answered steadily, his eyes downcast. "I realize that my actions were foolish – "

"They weren't just foolish, boy, they were dangerous and proved just how much of the old you is still in that boorish brain of yours!" Severus barked, slamming his palm down on the desk in front of Cal, making him jump. "Not only that, but you have to stop using your Wandless Magic. Only the most powerful Wizards can use it, and even then it's only for the simpler spells." Severus paced back and forth menacingly, running his hand through his hair in irritation. "You have to forget your Gryffindor tendencies, Callen. You are a Slytherin and you have to start behaving like one. You use caution and cunning, not foolhardiness and so-called bravery!"

Callen leapt to his feet, visibly bristling, "Well unlike your precious Draco, I wasn't raised to be a self-centred, obnoxious, egotistical little boot licker! Or have you already forgotten the pleasures of my life with the Dursley's? You _do_ remember them, don't you, _Dad_?" Cal was gripping the edge of the table so tightly it started to crack and splinter. "I _realize_ that transforming was something only someone as stupid as me would do, but I was only trying to see what Hermione kept telling me she saw when I was an Avatar…"

"I know Callen, I overheard the majority of your talk together," said Severus, crossing his arms and leaning against the end of the table Cal was standing behind. "And, for the most part, I agree with her, however, now is not the time to discuss that particular issue. Presently, I have a punishment to assign you for your carelessness."

Callen exhaled heavily and slumped into his seat, the very picture of defeat. Severus could clearly see that all the acting was beginning to effect him, but he really couldn't think of another way to handle the situation … unless he pulled the boy from the school altogether, but he knew Callen would never permit it. The school was the first place his son had felt he belonged, but even that was tainted by his fame.

"But, before I do that," said Severus, the Pro's and Con's of his idea flying through his mind at lightning speed. "I would like to ask you something."

Callen looked up at him curiously, though Sev could see a hint of apprehension in his eyes. "What is it?"

Severus sat down opposite his son and crossed his arms. "I can tell that this game is wearing on you, Cal, and, wanted to hear your opinion on the idea of just telling everyone the truth?"

Cal's eyes went wide as saucers, "What?" he breathed. "We can't do that, Dad! The Gryffindor's would hate me for putting them through my death, and if I stayed in Slytherin they'd crucify me!"

Severus nodded, expecting such an argument, "True, son, I won't deny any of that. However, we must think in the long term as well. People will find out eventually, even if it is only by accident, and if everyone knows, than it completely eliminates the element of surprise in all of its facets. Yes, the Dark Lord will know that your are indeed alive, and that you have Awakened … but we'll _know_ he knows. Do you understand?"

Cal swallowed nervously but still nodded. "What'll Dumbledore say?" he asked.

Severus shrugged, "A great many things, I would imagine. Or he'll just give us that irritating smile and say _interesting_, just to be difficult, followed by an offering of a Lemon Drop." Callen chuckled and Sev shook his head. "Insufferable old fool…"

Cal scratched the back of his neck, something Severus could tell was a distinctly nervous gesture. "Well … I'd like to talk to Hermione about it before we go to Dumbledore. Lizzy too. I want to know what they think of it. I mean – It would be nice to be around the other Gryffindors again … but, what about Liz? She'd … well, she'd probably think I was deserting her or something?"

"Nonsense," said Severus. "I believe she'd understand if you returned to Gryffindor Tower, just as much as Miss Granger would accept you staying in Slytherin. Miss Granger has stayed by you throughout all of your years here, and see no reason why that would change. As for Elizabeth … I know she has grown very fond of you this past week," Severus smiled quite sentimentally. "If she didn't require food and sleep, I doubt she would have left your side in the Infirmary."

Callen smiled shyly at the statement and ducked his head, mumbling something, but Severus didn't catch it. He smiled to himself at Cal's display of modesty … that was until Cal's body suddenly stiffened, his head bowed toward his chest as he gripped the table with his hands.

Severus stood and rounded the table when he heard a muffled growl of distress coming from his son, but froze when the bowed head snapped up at glared at him. Sev inhaled sharply, feeling fear creep into his chest, as he stared into Cal's glowing green eyes, watching as his fangs slowly made themselves visible. A deep, guttural growl emerged from his son's throat as he snarled up at him, and Sev started to back up slowly, as though he was facing a wild animal.

Cal leapt like lightning and Sev reacted instantly. Ducking under Cal's arm, Sev grasped the outstretched limb and pinned it behind Cal's back, while linking his other arm under Cal's left arm, twisting it around so that his hand grasped the back of Cal's head, locking it in place, while leaving Cal's arms immobile.

That didn't stop his feet from moving though. In a heartbeat, Cal had spun around and jumped backwards, slamming Severus into the wall behind them. Sev grit his teeth and winced at the jarring pain, but he kept his grip resolutely. In the back of his mind, Severus was grateful that this had happened around him and no one else. Comparing his own and Cal's unnatural strength and stamina, to each other they were as normal as strong humans. Shaking his head to clear it, Sev knew that a normal human would have been crushed by the force of the blow.

"Callen, stop it!" Sev growled into the ear by his mouth, biting back a grunt as Cal once again slammed him into the wall. "_What the hell is the matter with you??!!_"

A savage growl was his answer, as Cal began to twist and jerk his body, trying to loosen the grip he had on him. All of a sudden, Sev felt Cal bend down, only to leap upwards, sending them both into the ceiling. Severus was in a daze when they landed, and he lost his hold, only to feel his breath stolen from him as Cal's powerful hand wrapped itself around his throat.

Severus grasped Callen's arm as he easily lifted him from the floor, and tried to get him to let go, but he knew it was a futile effort. Even with his own enhancements, Cal was stronger than he would ever be. He looked down into his son's glowing eyes, wishing with all his heart that he would snap out of whatever quandary he'd fallen into … but he knew it was useless.

Almost detachedly, Sev watched as a set of wicked claws grew from Cal's free hand.

"_Cal_," he managed to choke out desperately, resignedness seeping into him at the sight of Cal's heartless grin, before the deadly claws lashed forward – 

*

A sharp pain flared across his shoulder the same instant something slapped his face. The paralysing horror that had swept through him was still as potent as ever. He could still hear the last words that had floated through the air, just as the feeling of blood flowing over his hands felt as real as the hands shaking him.

"Callen! Wake up!"

Something tapped his face again and Cal forced his eyes open, praying that what he'd seen wasn't real. He almost cried out with relief and happiness at the sight of his father leaning over him, face creased with barely hidden concern and anxiety. Behind him was the rest of the Potions class, looking down at him with both worry and fear.

Pain lanced across his shoulder again and Cal reflexively grasped at it, sitting up from the floor as Hermione's and his father's hands assisted him.

"What happened, Callen?" Severus asked quietly, concern burning in his obsidian eyes as he glanced at the way Cal was holding his left shoulder.

Cal's memory caught up with him at that moment, and he felt himself pale as it did so. He could clearly remember stiffly completing the set potion, when the familiar sensation of a vision from Voldemort overtook him. He'd been so surprised that he didn't put up his walls, and so suffered through the whole ordeal, almost believing it was real. The last words rang through his mind as he stared back at his father, and he was filled with dread.

__

"I see you, Potter … and your Father. You will be mine again, Avatar … and it shall be sooner than you think. Your father doesn't know everything about you, after all…"

Shuddering at the memory, Cal projected to his father quite solemnly, _"We have a _very_ big problem…"_


	46. Growing Pains

Hello everyone!! I am _so_ sorry that I haven't updated in so long, but real life caught up and I didn't have as much time to type as usual. That and I got stuck half way through the chapter, not sure on where I wanted to head. But that solved itself, and the rest just flowed out in the last two days.

For those that were a little confused as to when the Vision had actually started, it started right at the end of their Potions class, including all that was said between Cal and Sev after the class had filed out. When Cal came out of the Vision, it was still the end of the class, right before they bottled the finished product. I hope that helps.

Now, seeing as my seasonal work starts up at the start of next week, I'm afraid that the updates will most likely come even slower, but I _will_ try to not take too long. It all depends on how well my bouts of writers block go. If its anything like the last couple of days, you'll have updates rather regularly. But otherwise, I expect only about once every three or four weeks would be the best I can manage.

Okay, enough of my blabbering. Time to get on with the chapter. It's a bit longer than usual, and I hope it makes up for my appalling update record. Don't forget to review :D

Chapter Forty Six: Growing Pains

"But, if Voldemort really has known about you all this time," said Hermione as Cal, Severus and McGonagall sat listening to her in Dumbledore's office later that afternoon, "then why did he wait until now to reveal it? Why reveal that he knew at all and not keep the element of surprise?"

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "Sadly, Miss Granger, we may never know Voldemort's level of reason. He may have a reason for revealing his knowledge as he did, or he may not?"

"Do you think he'd have told the higher ranking Deatheaters about me?" asked Callen, after a short, thought-filled silence. "Or is he keeping it to himself, to keep us guessing about who might know or not?"

"It doesn't really matter," said Severus quietly, from his position next to Cal. "Either way, our only option is to tell the world what's happened and what we did to cover it up. It places us on an even footing then … no surprises. If we keep our peace, we would have no idea who might or might not know everything about you, Cal. Telling everyone would remove the random factor."

Cal blatantly rolled his eyes and shot back, "Yeah? And what happens if the whole Wizarding World decides to pull a Ron on me? What then, ay?"

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me, young man," said Severus smoothly, though it was very clear that his temper was rising. "There is no way to know how the public will react to something of this magnitude, just as you didn't know how Mr Weasley would react. I will not deny that there will be a percentage of the populous that take Mr Weasley's opinion about you, but then such a thing is impossible to predict."

*

By the end of the meeting, Dinner was due to start. Cal still hadn't come to a decision about what he wanted to do, so he ended up shifting his food around on his plate more than eating it, trying to weigh the Pro's and Con's of the situation.

Another issue that was beginning to press on his mind, was how his father had acted towards him that day. He'd never seen the man have mood swings that were such polar opposites before. One second he was all understanding and being nice to him, and the next he was hissing and spitting at him for the smallest thing?

Cal felt a shudder rush over him at the memory of what happened with the mirror in the Potions hall that morning. It had been the first time his father had laid a hand on him in anything other than comfort. Sure, it was only a slap on the wrist … but Uncle Vernon had started small as well…

***

The days passed in a blur to Cal, while he tried to make up his mind about how to handle the situation Voldemort had placed him in. His feelings on the matter were even more muddled by the way his father had been behaving toward him lately. Severus barely talked to him at all, no matter when he happened to run into him, nor was he warm in his reception if he dropped in to his chambers in his free time, saying he had too much work to catch up with, or throwing him out with the excuse that he had plans with Jessica.

Cal didn't understand what he'd done wrong to make the man behave in such a way. Was he fearful of him after he told about his vision? Afraid that he would one day attack him in a fit of unexplainable rage? Did the Vision remind his father of his alter ego so acutely that he didn't want him any more?

So intent on his thoughts while sitting in the Great Hall for dinner, Cal didn't notice the sets of eyes that were focused on him, each for different reasons and concerns.

*

The halls were dark and foreboding as soft footfalls could be heard echoing down them when none should be venturing about. The torches burning at intervals along the walls were hardly enough for normal people to see clearly in.

But this person was not normal.

He had been watching the goings on around him for a number of weeks now, making sure he wasn't noticed by any of those he was keeping vigil over. He was reluctant to say that the situation was not one he would like to see brought to fruition. He knew that he had access to information that almost no other knew about, but that privilege was worth naught by the fact that he was partly the reason behind the current situation.

At first he had thought it Just, what he was putting the object of his former instigation through. But he had seen and heard such a different side to him now, that what he'd done no longer seemed as satisfying as it once had. He could see the confusion and sadness in his eyes … ones that he now recognised so completely he didn't know how he'd missed it earlier.

Once he'd figured out the truth, he was surprised at how well his new acquaintance had fitted into his new House. It was almost as though he should have always been there. The way he could hide his true feeling behind his mask was undeniable, and almost as flawless as his fathers. He saw the easy-going face he presented to the school, yet he could hear the disturbing thoughts that ran through his mind, completely unaware that he was broadcasting them to those that could listen.

He let a small smile grace his pale lips at the memory of just that evening in the Common Room, and one of the few times he'd ever seen real joy in those haunted eyes. The depressed, sad and pained boy he had once known disappeared as he revelled in being a big brother to little Elizabeth. It was quite common to see him giving Lizzy piggy-backs all around the place, or see them sitting together on the couch by the fire just around curfew.

He, personally, thought it rather sweet; never having a sibling of his own to show such affection with. Showing emotion so openly was uncommon in Slytherin as it was, but no one ever said anything to them about it solely due to who their parents were. Or more correctly, who their father was.

It was this thought that brought him back to why he was walking around the corridors after curfew, and it wiped the smile from his pale features. After catching glimpses of memories from before he'd done what he did, he was feeling a gnawing guilt in his gut, even more so after seeing some of what the others life was like before all of this had happened.

The door to his Head of House finally came into view and he steeled himself for his confession and the following berating. Hesitantly, he raised his hand and knocked on the door, his cold blue eyes showing only a fraction of the apprehension currently surging through him. He heard the deep voice beckon him forward, and so after taking a deep breath, he opened the door and looked at the dark man sitting behind his desk marking papers.

Black eyes bore into blue.

"Finally come to confess, Mr Malfoy," Professor Snape stated quite coldly. "You surprise me. I didn't expect you to come for quite a bit longer." He stood and walked around his desk calmly, this in itself making Draco quake in his slippers. Snape had clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at him, his gaze hard. Draco gulped and hung his head.

"You should have thought of this before you did what you did, Draco. You have no idea what I will have to do, to regain what you took from me. Took from _him_."

Draco bit his lip, hating the disappointment in Snape's voice. It would have been better if he yelled … but he never did unless you'd done something suicidal.

Snape whirled around and strode back to his desk, resuming his marking without so much as looking up at him again.

"You shall explain your actions, to my son tomorrow, Mr Malfoy," said Snape coolly. "And you shall also keep him company until I have finished brewing the counter potion. I don't need him near me until it is complete, for I refuse to do more damage to him than I have already, however unintentional it was … thanks to you. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco cringed inwardly, "Yes, sir…"

***

"How the hell is Snape Jr able to top all of his classes, when he doesn't even attend half of 'em, eh?"

"Bloody Slytherin, showing us up…"

"For someone who failed their NEWT's first round, he seems to be getting it rather good now, isn't he…"

"I heard he sneaks into the Professors Quarters and steals the Quiz answers…"

Hermione shook her head as she listened to the other Gryffindors, (mainly the younger ones, or those that had never had a class with him) belittle and insult Callen's integrity. Some people were so dense it shocked even her. As she turned her attention back to her Charms textbook, she spotted Ginny, sitting in the chair that Harry used to occupy quite frequently when he was there, staring into the fire as though in a daze.

She knew the reason too. Ron was due to return from his month long suspension after the weekend was over, and she knew that the other girl was torn over the situation. On one hand, Ron was her brother … but he'd also turned his back on Harry the instant he learned of his true parentage and Racial Class. Hermione knew that Ginny was also a little confused over what she herself should be feeling about Harry's false death, followed by learning the truth about him. It was a lot to take in at once.

Hermione had gone through the same indecision when Harry had first told her and Ron during the Summer. Here was this boy she knew for five very eventful years, knew him in a way that almost no one else had known him, save for most of the Weasley's. Then, in one afternoon, she'd been told by him that his parents weren't who they all thought they were, and that he wasn't even a member of the Human race. Instead, he was some kind of Magical Frankenstein built to serve the darkest Wizard in over one hundred years.

Yes … It was a lot to take in. The only way she'd been able to keep her wits about her during that time, was by remembering those five years together, and what they'd all been through during them. Harry was still who he was, only that he now added this new knowledge to that. It didn't change who he was as a person. He still had the same personality, same sense of humour, the same things set him off. Sure, he had a few more issues to deal with … but that's what his friends were for … and until that afternoon, Hermione had believed Ron to be one of them.

How wrong both she and Harry had been.

***

"Mum, do you know why Dad is avoiding Cal, at all?" Lizzy asked as she sat with her mother out by the Lake, enjoying the early morning the first day of the weekend. Jessica shifted beside her and Liz looked up to see her mothers unsure gaze.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" she answered, brow drawn in confusion. "I've seen Callen around Sev a few times in the past couple of weeks. Why do you think he's avoiding him?"

Liz leant back and gave her mother an incredulous glare. "Do you mean to say, that you've not noticed what's been happening between them? Cal's told me all about how Dad keeps pushing him away for no real reason lately, saying he's too busy or that he has plans with you, of all excuses…"

"Severus has been using me as an excuse to brush off Cal?" Jess frowned, sitting up straighter as she stared across the Lake blankly.

"You really didn't know?"

The older woman shook her head at Lizzy's question, before standing up quickly and brushing herself off, holding out a hand to pull the smaller girl to her feet once she'd finished. Lizzy looked up at her mother curiously, having never seen such a glint in her eyes before.

"Mum, what – ?"

"We're going to go and have a talk to your Father, that's what," Jess stated quite coolly, her hand gripping Liz's shoulder as she directed them both down toward the Dungeons.

***

__

"What am I going to do about Ron when he gets back, day after tomorrow?" Cal asked himself as he sat in front of the Common Room fire, still in his pyjama pants and singlet, having only woken up a few minutes earlier. He already knew that Lizzy was awake, out with her mother, but he still missed having her sitting by his side. She brought a sense of normalcy to his confusing existence. He'd only seen Hermione a few times since the incident with the Mirror, and most of those times were in the other classes he attended during the week. Lately he'd thought to leave his old friend be, not wanting anyone to think worse of her for associating so closely with a Snape. He hoped she understood the reason behind his sudden aloofness, but as she was one of the most open-minded and understanding people he knew, he held little fear of her growing angry at him. He missed having her around to talk too, but he now had Lizzy to fulfil that little need, even though he was reluctant to divulge anything that may worry her overly. He didn't want to saddle her with all of his demons.

Frustrated, Cal ran his hand through his raven locks, but he halted the motion as soon as his upper arm came into view. He winced at the sight of the yellowed skin, the bruise that his father had given him by roughly shoving him from his rooms three days ago having mostly healed. He'd left it to heal normally, but he couldn't fathom the reason why he'd decided it.

He sighed heavily as he ran his fingers over the mark lightly, remembering what had happened that evening as vividly as it had only just occurred.

\/\/\/\/\/

__

Cal was smiling widely as he walked quickly through the gloomy corridors, Dinner having finished not long ago. He'd been in the Room of Requirement during the afternoon classes, training his powers while trying to discover new ones, not needing to attend except for double Charms that morning.

He quickly found the door to his fathers chambers and cautiously knocked, hoping that whatever he'd done to upset the man had blown over. He heard his fathers voice call out and he allowed himself a tight smile, before opening the door and stepping inside, closing it behind him.

Severus was sitting behind his desk, rearranging some parchment and books when he looked up at his visitor. Cal's cautious smile disappeared when his fathers onyx eyes flashed angrily at his presence.

"What are you doing here, boy?" he snarled, tossing the last stack of parchment onto the desk then rounding it, standing all of two feet in front of Cal, who for his part was trying to not show his apprehension. "I told you that I didn't want you coming here at all, nor to even see me unless it was during class. What part of that did your miniscule brain not comprehend?"

Cal pushed down the pang of hurt that filled his chest and looked at his father with a barely restrained hopeful expression.

"Dad, I learned something new this afternoon, during training – "

"My, my, my," Severus interrupted, a sneer appearing on his pallid features. "You actually learned something? And it's taken you how long to do so? The last thing you learned was Pyrokinetics, and that_ was at your – unfortunately, _fake_ funeral. Are you saying that it has taken you over a month to discover and wield a new ability? If so, I'm ashamed to even associate myself with such an intellectually impaired … creature."_

Cal was drawing in sharp breaths as he tried to push aside the continuing tightness in his throat and chest, but it was with little success. He blinked rapidly in order to rid his eyes of the telltale dampness he could feel burning there.

"But – I thought that – "

Severus raised an eyebrow at Cal's stammering. "Thought what, precisely?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "That I would be pleased at your great accomplishment? Proud, perhaps?" Cal lowered his eyes and didn't see the smug expression Severus shot at him. "Oh, you did_? Such a shame, that. Now – " Cal started violently when his father suddenly gripped him by his right bicep and roughly hauled him towards the door, either not seeing or ignoring the way he was trying to loosen the vice-like grip. Severus opened his door and pushed him out so hard Cal almost lost his footing. "– If you would leave my quarters, _Potter_, I have work to do, and seeing such a worthless piece of existence will not help me in any regard."_

With that, Severus slammed his door closed, leaving Cal staring at the oak dazedly, cradling his arm and trembling. Shakily, he straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall and quickly rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, then slowly trudged back towards the Slytherin Common Room. He paused at the end of the corridor and looked back at his fathers door remorsefully, then held out his hand, palm upwards.

A glowing ball of sparking arches of electricity appeared, lighting up the dank hallway and reflecting in its creators emerald eyes, sparkling brightly with the dampness that still resided there. With a snarl, Cal closed his fist and extinguished the ball of lightning before storming towards the Quidditch Pitch, determined to fly off his resounding anguish…

\/\/\/\/\/

Callen sighed heavily and stood from the couch, knowing that he needed to use the weekend for homework and practicing with his new abilities, but he was continually being distracted that morning by his memories with his father, and the knowledge of Ron's return on Monday. He let a small growl emit from his throat as he rubbed at his face, walking back to his dorm room to change for the day.

He saw Draco Malfoy emerge from said room and look at him strangely, but he ignored it and started to prepare for the day.


	47. A Confession and Discovery

A new chapter is here!! I'm _very_ sorry that it has taken me this long to get this chapter out, but as I said, work is now taking up the majority of my time. I realise that the length is not enough to satisfy most after such a long break, but it's all I could think of over the last two days. (I have two days off work every ten days, so you can see my time dilemma.)

I hope this chapter satisfies you though, and I'm not sure when my next chapter will come. Enjoy!!

Chapter Forty Seven: A Confession and Discovery

"Ginny?" Hermione asked quietly as she sat with the younger girl in the Common Room, finishing the weeks homework. "Do you think Callen did the right thing, by doing what he'd done? Keeping you all in the dark wasn't easy for him, I'm sure…"

Ginny sighed sharply, making Hermione's words trail to a stop.

"Hermione," she snapped rather waspishly, removing her gaze from the DADA textbook on her lap. "I really don't care anymore. I had thought that Ha – that Callen had thought more highly of our family. I mean, Mum always treated him as if he was lost at birth, yet he still kept all this from us, save for Ron, who turned out to be a complete prat about it anyway. Callen Snape is obviously not the person he was, even if some of his mannerisms have stayed the same, and so, I see no point in trying to decide if what he did was "Right or not?" Okay?"

Hermione was a little taken back from the sudden spiel from the younger girl, but she soon gave her a twisted grin and said, "Your right royally ticked at him, aren't you…"

If looks could kill, Hermione would have been reduced to her basic molecular structure.

" – I don't understand, Severus!" Jessica exclaimed exasperatedly, following her ex-husband around his quarters as he flitted around, gathering all sorts of nonessentials to try and detract from the current conversation. Lizzy was watching it all rather amused from the couch by the fire. "You were so happy to have him around, I just don't see why you would treat him in such a manner, especially after knowing how he was treated at that God-forsaken place he used to call a home!"

Severus whipped around to face her, his features contorted in a mix of rage and disgrace.

"I realize that the way I have been treating Callen will effect his reaction towards me in the future greatly, but at this point in time, I can do _nothing_ about it! If he would do as he was told and stop seeking me out, he would feel my ire less frequently, but I'm starting to believe he's a glutton for punishment." Sev sighed heavily and walked over to lean against the front of his desk. "I have told him to stay away from me, but he keeps coming around. I know that I hurt him," he whispered, suddenly letting more of his feelings show through than normal. He looked crushed. "He was so pleased with himself when he came to tell me he'd learnt some new powers … and I hurt him. I tossed him out like he was yesterdays news…"

Jess eyed him sombrely before silently walking over and gently placed her hand to his cheek. "Than why are you doing this to him? He wants so much to please you, Sev…"

Severus lowered his gaze and ran a hand through his hair. "I have grown too complacent over the years, my dear," he said softly. "I didn't realize I had taken it until it was too late to do anything about it, and it wasn't until later that I realized what it had done…"

Jess gazed into his eyes imploringly. "What happened?"

Sev hesitated a moment before opening his mouth to reply……

"– I laced your fathers drink with some _Polar Minded draught_," Malfoy blurted out to Callen suddenly as he walked past him on his way through the Common Room, heading for breakfast. Cal stopped mid-step and stilled. Slowly he turned back around and gave Malfoy a withering glare, making the other boy shrink back a little.

"Could you … repeat that for me, Mr Malfoy?"

Draco straightened his shoulders and set his jaw, almost as though he was preparing for the fight of his life.

"The reason Professor Snape has been acting like he has to you, is because I spiked his drink with that potion we worked on a couple of weeks ago. I made you the focal point of it…"

Cal was silent and didn't move a muscle, letting the new information sink into his mind. Every hurtful moment with his father flashed through his mind, both the verbal … and the not so …

"You spiked his drink," Cal stated bluntly, as though needing to clarify this simple point. When Draco nodded though, Cal couldn't help but let his face break into the widest grin he'd ever showed in his life. His eyes shone brightly and danced with exuberance. Draco looked on blankly in profound confusion.

"What on earth are you smiling about?" he barked. "I'm the reason why your dad has been treating you like dirt, and you _smile about it_??"

Callen let out a loud whoop of joy before turning to Malfoy and clapping him firmly on the shoulder. "Don't think for one instant I am going to let this slide by me, Mr Malfoy," he grinned, eyes gaining a cool glint. "But as I've just reversed everything he's told me since then, and figured out what he was _really_ wanting to say, I'll let you go for now and let you ponder on what I'm going to do to you once I've figured it out…"

With that, Cal patted Malfoy on the head as though he were a small child, and walked quickly from the Common Room.

Jessica stared at Severus as she took in his story. Slowly, she blinked and came back to reality, stating, "You mistakenly drank this potion from your goblet after Mr Malfoy had switched it with your own juice, in the middle of the meal, using a Switching spell, and you didn't even notice it until some incident with Callie in a hallway?"

Severus grimaced and nodded, lowering his head towards his chest. Jess studied him for a moment, and realized just how run down and haggard he appeared, compared to his usual impeccable dress and attitude. His hair was limper than ever before and dark circles were forming under his obsidian eyes, also dulled with weariness. Light shadows had appeared around his jaw and upper lip, signifying that he hadn't bothered to shave for a stint either.

"You really should get some rest, Sev," she suggested gently, not wanting to ignite his fiery temper so early in the day. "You'll need to think clearly so you can brew that counter potion properly. Can't have you ignoring your son for any longer than you must, can we Severus?"

Sev stayed silent and took a seat next to Lizzy, who for her part had sat and listened politely throughout the entire conversation.

"Do you think he knows that I lo – that I am … quite fond of him?"

Both Jess and Liz looked up, startled by Snapes stumbled words, before sharing a quick glance and nodding.

"Of course he knows how much you care for him, Sev," said Jessica, smiling softly when Sev lifted his arm to drape it over Lizzy's shoulders. The smaller girl leaned into her father gladly. "You took him away from the Dursleys and accepted him despite your past history together. You gave him the family he's been wanting ever since he could remember…"

Severus closed his eyes, "They hurt him as well, though, Jessie. He probably thinks that its normal for family to beat on each other."

"You know that's not true, Sev," Jess scolded kindly. "He's seen how the Weasley's treat each other."

"There's always the exception to the rule," Severus replied dryly. "But no matter, the only thing that I want to happen is for Callie to stay away from me until that Counter Potion has been brewed. I hate how I want to say or do something to him, and I end up with the opposite. It hurts inside when I see his eyes afterwards…"

Lizzy gave her father a tight hug, surprising the older man, who returned the embrace hesitantly. "Don't worry dad," she said, her voice muffled by his chest. "When we tell him what's happened, Callie will understand."

Severus smiled despairingly. "He always was too trusting…"

Cal was practically skipping inside as he strode quickly to the Great Hall for breakfast. After what Malfoy had – for some reason, confessed to him, he now knew the reason behind his fathers drastic change of behaviour towards him. All those times the older man had put him down, he'd actually been wanting to praise him. He grinned slightly, thinking that when he went and saw his father now, he would understand what he was telling him by simply reversing the words and actions.

Simple.

The Great Hall was practically empty when Cal finally walked into it. He looked quickly over at the Staff table and saw that the only teacher present was little Professor Flitwick.

Well, it is the weekend, Cal thought to himself, sitting easily and piling his plate with all sorts of things. He ate in relative silence, watching calmly as the other early risers drifted into the vast hall, most of whom looked as though they'd crawled from their beds but five minutes ago.

"Hey there, Callen," a voice spoke cheerfully from behind him. Turning, Cal watched as Blaise Zabini slid into the seat next to him, casually adding to his own plate. "Nervous about Weasley coming back on Monday?"

Cal silently thought on the question while studying the smaller boy. With wavy, short black hair, a slight build and a little on the short side, he was different to most of the other Slytherins in his year. Seemingly more tolerant of other races and neutral when it came to the different houses, he wasn't extremely outspoken and tended to keep to himself, unless an issue struck a chord with him.

Although they weren't the best of friends, Cal found the other lad quite companionable.

"Not really," he answered finally, shovelling some more scrambled egg into his mouth. "Should I be?"

Blaise quirked an eyebrow at him. "I know I bloody well am," he snorted, shaking his head. "I'm lucky all my hair was able to grow back as it was, thanks to that idiot." Cal remembered hearing about all the different injuries that had been inflicted on his fellow students, and Blaise was one of the luckier ones. His hair had caught fire in the blast but was able to be put out before permanently damaging his scalp. "I know the other Houses aren't too happy with him either," he continued after swallowing his mouthful of sausage, just as any self-respecting Slytherin would do. "I mean, Finch-Fletchly nearly lost his leg! I'm already right royally ticked at him, I'd hate to see how everyone else is…"

"The other Gryffindors didn't seem to mind much though," Cal muttered darkly, hearing from Lizzy some of the things the Lions had said about Ron and his supposed attempt on his life. It made him feel sad, and a little ashamed of having once been one of them, shallow as they tended to be. Hermione and Ginny seemed to be the only exceptions so far. That wasn't saying much for the rest of the house, considering Hermione had been injured in the blast as well.

Blaise harrumphed at the comment. "Personally, I consider Hufflepuffs above Gryffindors in matters of intelligence. But they all have their faults, including Slytherin, so we're all on pretty much an even footing." They ate in silence for a few more minutes, but Blaise broke it just as Callen was about to leave to look for Lizzy. "What did you and Draco talk about?" he asked casually. "He seemed a little nervous about something after you left, and if there's one thing Malfoy doesn't do, it's show people when he's nervous. It means he's unsure or afraid about something…"

Cal cleared his throat uncomfortably before stating coolly, "That is no one's business but mine and Mr Malfoy's."

Hermione was clutching at the letter in her hand as she hurried through the hallways. She entered the Great Hall, looking for Callie, only to see him stalking swiftly through the small door at the back of the room. She'd hurried after him, but lost track soon afterwards. She _had_ to get him to read this letter. She'd received it just before she herself had headed towards breakfast, and was surprised to find it was from Fred and George. She'd ignored Ginny's inquiries and had torn it open immediately. What it said had shocked her quite thoroughly:

Hermione,

We know that Ron is due back at Hogwarts in a day or two, so we decided to tell you what we've all discovered during the time Ron was suspended. All of us had tried talking to Ron about the way he'd treated both you and Callen, but none of it seemed to be getting through to him. It was almost as though he'd had a split personality sometimes. One minute he was the happy-go-lucky _Ron we all knew, and as soon as either you or Callen was mentioned, he'd turn all angry and frustrated._

Mum and Dad finally decided to take him to a healer at St Mungo's, thinking that someone who specialised in brain injuries or trauma might be able to shed some light on the situation.

We presume you remember the brain that had attacked Ron while you were all at the Ministry last term? It turns out that it was the brain of some kind of creature, (they didn't know what type) and it ended up transferring some of its own mindsets into Ron, through the thoughts that still scar his arms.

As far as we can tell, whatever this creature was, it had very severe reactions to other non-human species, specifically Dark Creatures. Now we know that Callen isn't a Dark Being or Creature, but Ron's mind only recognises him as such now, because of the reasons he was originally created.

We guess all we're trying to say is that, he can't help it. Its part of the way his mind works now, and there's nothing that can be done about it. Needless to say, Mum and Dad are very upset by all this, as are the rest of us … but we'd appreciate it if you could tell Callen of this as well, so he knows there was a reason for it all.

Hoping you have some fun this year, but try and ignore Ron when he's being a prat. We're sure that he's only being mean to you, Hermione, because you've 'Allied yourself with the beast from the dark_.' We really are very sorry about all of this, knowing how close you three used to be._

Take care.

Fred and George.

After reading all the information, Hermione had taken off straight away, intending to find Cal. With his new powers, he might even find a way to remove the foreign influences from Ron's mind. They'd have their best friend back the way he was – 

Hermione stopped her thoughts and shook her head. What was she thinking? She couldn't get her hopes up in such a fashion, and she didn't even know if Callie had the ability to reverse the effects anyway. If he couldn't, or even if he didn't want to, she wouldn't think any different of her friend. If anyone had the right to hold a grudge against Ronald Weasley, it was Callen Snape.

Hermione was taken by surprise and yelped when she suddenly slammed into a solid obstacle as she rounded a corner. The obstacle grunted with the impact also, but Hermione didn't notice as she was knocked to the stone floor.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Granger?!" a familiar drawling voice barked. "Watch where you're going!"

Hermione groaned and rubbed her head as she got to her feet. Of all the people…

"Malfoy, you were involved in that just as much as I was, so how about you eat your words, alright?" she snapped irritably, trying to regain her composure. She felt in her pockets as she spoke and looked around, wide-eyed when she couldn't find the letter she'd been carrying. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy stoop low. Her heart sunk when she saw him straighten up with the letter in his hand, looking at it as though he'd found a forbidden treasure.

"Well, well, well. What have we got here, Mudblood? A love letter perhaps, from your Weasel boyfriend?" he sneered, removing the parchment from the envelope and opening it up, dodging out of the way when Hermione lunged for it. "Ah, ah, ah, hands off Granger," said Malfoy, drawing his wand and waving it at her threateningly. "You'll get it back after I'm done with it."

Hermione was seething. She had to get that letter from him before he read anything important. "I'm taking that letter to Callen, Malfoy," she hissed, using Cal's reputation to get her way. "How do you think he'll react when I tell him what you did?"

Malfoy didn't reply and his features had taken leave of any sneering or malice. His grey eyes were darting back and forth over the parchment until he looked up at her suddenly, his face strangely blank. Hermione flinched when he waved his wand in a circular motion, but grew very wary when a glowing blue sphere enveloped them both.

"I want that letter back," she demanded, holding out her hand expectantly. She didn't want to be here any longer than needed.

"Not yet," Malfoy replied evenly, shaking his head. "No one can hear us, so we can speak freely if you know what I think you do."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Malfoy held up the parchment and gestured to it. "What do you think they were referring to when they called Callen a 'Dark Creature?' I think you know. I also think you know other knowledge about our young Snape."

Hermione felt her throat tighten, "I don't know anything strange about Cal – "

"You would've been one of the first people he told, Granger," Malfoy cut in harshly. "Especially if he's who I think he is as well. Why else would the Weasel act the way he did?" Hermione felt fear rising in her chest, but she was shocked speechless at Malfoy's next words. "Harry Potter is a Creature of Dark and son of a Snape. Nothing to hate there at all…"


	48. A Web Unravelling

Hey Guy's!! I am really sorry about the ... what is it, two month wait? Real Life got in the way, and so did a little case of writers block. Hopefully I won't update so late again, but knowing my creative flow, it could dam up at any time. I hope you like this next chapter (as it took me long enough to think of the last few pages) and if you are going to leave a review to yell at me for my lateness, I would not blame you.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
**Chapter Forty Eight: A Web Unravelling**

Callen was heading down towards his fathers quarters, wanting to speak to him of what Draco Malfoy had done to him. He knew that his reception wouldn't be accepted extremely well, but he'd take whatever his father threw at him, knowing that it really wasn't meant for him. Just as he reached the Dungeons, however, he froze as something in the air around him shifted. He looked around, curious at what the sensation could have been. He extended his senses and felt concern as whatever had rippled through the air felt like a violent shock, mingled with terror.

Callie's brow furrowed and he moved his hands slightly away from his body, as though it would help him feel the emotion boiling through the corridors. He shut his eyes and concentrated …

"Hermione!" he gasped, his eyes snapping open and darting about wildly. What could have happened that had frightened her so? Abandoning the idea of visiting his father, Cal immediately stretched out his mind, trying to determine Hermione's position in the castle. He found her not too far away, near the Slytherin Commons … but there was someone else with her. Concentrating harder, Cal grit his teeth as he recognised Malfoy's magical signature.

Opening his eyes, which were blazing with rage at the thoughts running through his mind, Cal looked up and down the hall, determined that he was alone, before turning invisible in the blink of an eye and Pafting to Hermione's side.

Hermione couldn't help but stare at Malfoy, her mind reeling with _how_ on earth, after all they'd done, he'd found out about Harry? The way he'd worded the query said he still wasn't completely sure, but Hermione could see that he'd never been more sure of anything in his life.

The smirk on the blondes face spoke loudly, and it screamed absolution. Just as she was about to speak, she saw something in Malfoy's expression flicker, but he was soon back to staring at her, obviously wanting an answer to his statement.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," Hermione spat, though her voice was faltering. "Harry was murdered over the Summer, in case you didn't read it in the papers – "

"Oh yes, I saw that," said Malfoy, his smile widening a fraction. "You seem crushed over it too. I know of others who had faked their deaths before now, so I do believe Potter did it himself after he found out what he was. Can't have our, _saviour_ … as something created by the Dark Lord, can we…?"

Hermione could feel tears prickling the back of her eyelids, but she refused to allow Malfoy to see her distress. "How do you know all of this?" she hissed, knowing it was pointless to deny it any longer. "No one else even _suspects_ – "

"I'm not everyone else, Granger," Malfoy interrupted, his smirk vanishing. Hermione saw his eyes flick to something off to the side, but before she could react to it, he was staring at her again. "Remember … my father was a Deatheater too."

Hermione blinked, wondering what on earth that was supposed to mean? She opened her mouth so ask him so, but before anything could come out, Malfoy had turned fully to where he was looking before, and was clearly gazing at something she couldn't see. Her eyes raked the wall beside them, but there was nothing to see. Hermione looked back at Malfoy and saw that his eyes were focused on something _inside_ the bubble surrounding them.

Malfoy smirked, "Hello, Potter."

Ron sat up in his bedroom, silently fuming at his parents for what they'd made him do during his suspension. How could they force him to see a St Mungo's specialist, just because he'd finally seen "Harry Potter" as he really was? He was a creature garnished from the foulest mind in history, and his own family were telling him how it was the "same Harry he'd always known." Ridiculous. Potter wasn't natural. He was just a construct, a puppet made for the purpose of Evil. No good could possibly come from associating with something so vile, nor anyone else that wished for that things company.

Using this mindset, Ron was beginning to believe that Harry had cast some kind of spell over his family. They were all telling him how wrong he'd been, causing Potter such injury intentionally. Ron snorted. He would be returning to Hogwarts the day after next, and there he could do whatever he wished again. He had no doubts that he would be watched rather closely after the incident in Snape's Potions Class, but Ron didn't let that phase him. He'd get that disgusting Avatar back for what he'd done eventually, and hopefully he could convince the rest of Gryffindor House to chip in.

Laying back against the headboard on his bed, Ron looked around his tiny, bright orange bedroom. Almost all of his things had been packed back into his trunk, ready for his departure back to school, leaving the room looking rather bare. Ron looked about sadly, remembering how he'd always wished that he had a vault at Gringott's the same size as Harry's. Now he was grateful he had so little in common with the little freak.

Inwardly, Ron smirked quite maliciously. By the time he was finished at school that year, everyone would know the truth about The-Boy-Who-Lived. Potter had been so preoccupied with so many other things, he'd not placed any secrecy charms on him, like he had with the others that knew. Ron was free to speak about it to anyone.

"Ron!" he heard his mother yell from the kitchen, breaking his train of thought. "Hurry and come get your breakfast! It's going cold!"

Ron scowled openly but still slid from his bed and headed down the rickety old stairs. Although he hated the idea of seeing a specialist about controlling his so called "Mental Problem," Ron was more than willing to play along with getting better. If he was back to his pathetic, old self, than nobody would be treading on eggshells around him anymore, leaving him to do as he wished without anyone suspecting the wiser.

Ron plastered a small grin on his face as he ventured into the small kitchen. His mother seemed to be reassured by the expression ad she gestured him toward the table.

As Ron sat and began his meal, he thought, "_Potter, you'll never know what hit you…_"

"Hermione, let go! I have to tell Dad what's going on!"

Cal was trying to get Hermione to release his arm gently and having no success. They'd just finished taking with Malfoy and Cal was all for informing the Potions Master of the situation. Hermione disagreed.

"Callie, your Dad's been acting very awful to you of late, and I for one don't really want to see him blow up at you!" she hissed back in response, tightening her grip on his arm as she spoke. "Anyway, I'm not sure that there's much he can do about it at the moment, what with his being under suspicion in the Death Eaters and all…"

"But he has to know!" Cal shot back, lowering his voice to a hiss as a group of third years walked passed. "Draco Malfoy, of all people, knows that Harry Potter isn't dead, and that I am he. Not only that, but he's a bloody Telepath _and_ an Empath!" Cal shook his head and directed a rueful smile towards Hermione. "No bloody wonder he knew who I was. It wasn't as though I was shielding my thoughts from _other_ weirdo's … just the normal people…"

"You're not weird, Callie," Hermione jumped in automatically, as she did recently every time she heard him degrade himself. "The _point_ is, Malfoy hasn't told anyone else about you. By the sounds of it, he's known of you for a couple of weeks and has said _nothing_. To anyone. Not even the other Slytherins."

Cal raised an eyebrow, "It's called_ leverage_, Hermione. He'll probably blackmail me into doing things for him so he won't tell…"

"You can't know that he'll do that – "

"_You_ can't know that he _won't_!" Cal snapped, glaring coldly at her, though his face softened when Hermione seemed to wilt under his gaze. "I'm sorry," he sighed, relaxing the muscles that had tightened unconsciously in his frustration. "I shouldn't snap at you, even if you are being difficult," he grinned, feeling a little better with himself when Hermione smiled back at the remark. "All right," said Cal finally, "I'll forget about Malfoys motives for now … but I _do_ have to tell Dad that he knows about me. You do see that he needs to know, don't you?"

Hermione bit her lip but she still nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I'm coming with you when you tell him though," she blurted, making it very clear that this was not a request.

Cal smiled warmly and leant down, brushing a very light kiss to Hermione's forehead. "Don't ever change, Hermione," he murmured. "You're perfect just as you are, and I don't know where I'd be if I'd never known you."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink and her only response to the statement was to hook her arm through his, and direct them both towards the Dungeons.

Elizabeth walked slowly through the dark and gloomy corridors of the Dungeons, leaving her parents to talk more privately about the situation between her father and brother. She shook her head at the memories of how Callie had been behaving over the last few days, remembering how he'd withdrawn somewhat from her, preferring to spend time by himself. She knew it wasn't healthy for him, considering the way he'd been brought up by those Muggles. Callie tried to hide it so well, but he never blocked his feelings from being felt by those that had the ability to.

She knew all too well, how their fathers behaviour was effecting her brother. She could tell that, after the way the Dursleys had raised Callie, it was as if he craved affection in any form. He treasured the friendship he had with Hermione, and Lizzy knew just how deeply Ron's dismissal had cut. Until recently, she wouldn't have believed that she and Cal could get any closer. They were always exchanging hugs and kisses on the cheek or forehead, and she adored the times when Callie would sneak with her up to the top of the Astronomy Tower. He would simply envelop her from behind and sit her on his lap as though she were a babe, encase her in his wings and let her run her fingers soothingly through the feathers. She would simply sit there and allow him the small comfort of her company, not expecting conversation nor desiring it.

So wrapped in her thoughts, she didn't even see the person strutting down the corridor in the opposite direction until she felt someone grab her shoulders, forcing her to stop and take notice of her surroundings.

"What _is_ it with girls running into me today?"

Blinking and looking up, Liz saw that she'd almost collided with Draco Malfoy, who for his part already looked rather annoyed at something.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Lizzy apologized. "I wasn't looking were I was going."

Draco cocked an eyebrow and smirked, "Really? And here I thought that you were intentionally trying to run me down. You and Granger must have been conspiring against me or something today…"

Lizzy looked confused and tried to get a glimpse of what the older boy was feeling, but frowned when she drew a blank. "Hermione?" she clarified, trying to cover her tracks when Draco shot her a strange look at her probe. "Since when do you talk with her?"

But Draco seemed as though he hadn't heard the question. The look he was giving her made Lizzy feel edgy.

"Professor Snape is your father," Draco muttered, as though something had just come together in his mind.

"Uh … Yes," said Lizzy, unsure of Draco's behaviour, or what he was getting at.

"Unlike your brother, you look nothing like him," he uttered quietly. "If it wasn't for the Sorting Feast, no one would even suspect you were his…"

Lizzy swallowed, "What's your point, Draco?"

"Professor Potter."

Lizzy near jumped out of her skin at the voice in her mind, only used to hearing Callen speak to her telepathically, and even then he usually sent some warning pressure beforehand. But this was Draco speaking to her. That in itself was enough to worry her. Her surprise gave way to panic, however, when the uttered words registered in her mind, making her stare at Draco in horror.

"What?" she whispered, taking a half step away from the tall blonde.

Draco continued to smirk, "I should've seen it earlier. You look so much like her, now that I look, and the fact that your father is who he is completely slipped my mind, until just now." He took a half step toward Lizzy, closing the distance she'd placed between them. "You have special talents to, don't you? I felt it, just before. You tried to take a reading on me … but I'm better at it than you…"

Realization flooded across Lizzy's face. "Lucius Malfoy was your father," she whispered, remembering that the man had been a Deatheater along with her own father.

A flicker of something flashed over Draco's eyes, but it vanished in a heartbeat. "No one ever told me how he was killed, you know," he murmured. "One minute he was an escapee from Azkaban, the next he'd been found dead…"

"It was his own fault!" Lizzy snapped angrily, remembering what Cal had told her about the reason he was faking his death. She still felt as though she would explode every time she thought of the Dursleys, but Lucius was simply too arrogant to think of all the possibilities before attempting to murder Harry.

"What?" Draco gasped, leaning forward even further, his grey eyes narrowing dangerously. "What do you know about it?!"

Lizzy shook her head and started to inch backwards, "N – nothing," she stuttered, mentally kicking herself for blurting something like that to the man's _son_. Draco was looking as though he would pop a vessel, changing Lizzy's anxiousness into panic and fear. This Draco was very different from the one she would occasionally speak to in the Common Room. He was usually polite and seemed to care about some of those in the younger years, even if he could have a sharp tongue for any kind of indiscretion. The person before her at this moment, however, was strikingly opposite. Normally neat to a fault, Draco's hair was rumpled, his features turning red as she stood studying him, and a vein throbbing in his temple. His hands were fisted, visibly shaking, and his mouth was drawn so tightly it was barely a line.

"How could you know nothing?" Draco spat viciously, making Liz recoil a fraction in fright. "Professor Snape is your father! If I know anything, it's that he knows how my father died! You just said it was his own fault … how do you know that?!"

"Because Dad told me about it! He was there!"

Draco seemed to deflate in an instant, shock and disbelief flickering over his features. His shoulders sagged and he stared at Lizzy with almost deadened eyes. "He was _there_?"

Lizzy flinched at the despondency in Draco's voice and kicked herself again. She really was bad at keeping most secrets. It was probably a good thing that Callen had placed that secrecy charm over her.

"Yes, Draco," said Lizzy, stepping up to the taller boy, her fear of him vanishing with his anger. "Dad told us all about it." Liz decided to satisfy the other boys desire to know of the circumstances behind his fathers death, but she would alter a few of the facts about Callie's involvement.

Predictably, Draco almost begged, "What happened?"

Sighing heavily, though still looking up at the blonde sympathetically, Lizzy grasped Draco's hand and led him into an abandoned classroom, intent on telling him an altered version of the truth. But then, she didn't know what Draco knew either……

Severus and Jessica were laying contently on the couch, his arms wrapped securely around her as she lay her head against his strong chest. They had only spoken briefly about the situation with Callie after Liz had opted to leave them be for the rest of the morning, but they had soon found comfort in each others arms, just as they had so many years ago.

Severus shifted his position slightly, allowing him to bend his head forward and place a soft kiss to Jessica's temple, tightening his embrace as she sighed lightly, a small smile flickering across her lips. Sev let out a light breath before inhaling the scent of Jess's hair, raising his hand to run his fingers gently through it.

"I am most appreciative that Mr Malfoy's potion did not reverse my feelings for _everyone_," Sev whispered silkily, staring intently into Jess's eyes when she turned her face toward his.

Severus smiled ever so lightly and Jess opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment, a loud banging announced that someone was knocking on the door to Snape's chambers. Severus scowled and shifted Jess so he could rise, but before he'd so much as swung his legs over the edge of the leather, the door swung open roughly and a harried Callen swept in, followed closely by a nervous Hermione.

Rage boiled through Severus at the sight of his son, and before he even registered what the boy was saying, he'd flown from the seat and struck out viciously, landing his fist solidly on Callen's jaw, for the boy had stopped dead at his fathers actions. Cal's head whipped around and he stumbled backward into the bookshelf by the doorframe, some of the heavier tomes falling from their place and landing loudly on the floor.

"How dare you come barging into my chambers, boy!" Severus spat hatefully, stepping up to Callen quickly, making him flinch away. Cal was holding a hand to his jaw, staring at him as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. Severus payed the gaze no mind. "You aren't welcome here, boy … or does that simple notion find it hard to penetrate your thick skull?"

"Sev…" Jess muttered quietly, placing a hand on the raging mans arm in an attempt to calm him. She looked over at Callie worriedly, before directing her gaze to Hermione, who for her part was staring at Callie in horror. The younger girl glanced at her and Jess could see unshed tears building in her eyes, knowing they were in sympathy for Callie.

"I … I just wanted to tell you that Malfoy knows who I am," Callen spoke into the silence, though his eyes were downcast. "He's an Empath, like Lizzy, but he's Telepathic too. He's been Reading me for ages…"

"You stupid fool!" snarled Severus, brushing off Jess's hand and storming forward, reaching out and grasping Callen's shirt by the collar. Cal froze and didn't even try to stop his father when he slapped him about the cheek. "How could you be so careless about such a thing?! Worthless waste of space! You couldn't keep a secret to save your own hide, freak!"

"Sev, stop it!" Jess snapped, taking hold of Severus's arm as he drew back to strike Callie again. He whirled to face her, making her gasp. As he was no longer facing Cal, she could see the heartbreak and turmoil racing through her husbands onyx eyes. She saw how he loathed his actions, yet was powerless to do anything against the potion circulating through his body. "Hermione, take Callie and leave!" she ordered sternly, not releasing Severus, nor removing her eyes from his.

She heard Hermione enter and the rustle of clothing as she forced her friend to move. A moment later the door swung shut and Severus broke down, his body latching onto her as he wept for his son.


	49. Dark Beginnings

Hey there everyone!! I'm early with the update this time, and it's because I've learned to do my writing at work, and type it up later at home. Saves loads of time just sitting here at my keyboard going, "Hmm, what will I write now?"

Now, I'm giving you all a choice. I'm thinking of ending this particular story in the next chapter or two, simply because it's nearing the end of this particular chapter in Harry's life. That, and some new plot bunnies have hopped my way and show up in the next chapter or two. Some of you will hate the road I've taken, but sorry. Things just evolved that way.

The choice I'm giving you, is if you want me to continue it all on this story site, or if I should start a new story for the (somewhat) Sequel. Your choice. I don't particularly care.

Anyway, with that said, I hope you enjoy my new chapter!!

**Chapter Forty Nine: Dark Beginnings**

Lizzy watched anxiously as Draco sat on one of the dusty tables, processing her version of the events that took place in the Hospital Wing during the Summer.

In a way, she pitied the tall blonde across from her. She knew what it was like to grow up without a father around, but now that she'd experienced her fathers affection, she knew how devastated she would be if he was taken from her.

"So," said Draco quietly, pulling Liz from her thoughts. "My father killed Potter … then Professor Snape killed my father …" Draco looked up at her before continuing. "Why were Potter's Guardians here then?"

Lizzy blinked, "Excuse me?"

"You know, the Muggles he lived with?" Lizzy bit her lip in hesitation but Draco barrelled on. "I know that they were arrested by the Ministry and are currently awaiting trial. Why?"

"I don't – um … How do you know that?" Lizzy stammered slightly, taken aback by Draco's knowledge. "No one knew about that … about any of it! It was kept from the Media … how do you know about that?!"

Draco suddenly stood from the desk and approached her, the coolness in his eyes chilling Lizzy to the bone. Caution filled her and she made sure her hand was close to her wand.

"I know a lot of things, Miss Elizabeth," he sneered, "and one of them is just how much of a Cock-and-Bull story what you just told me was!!"

Liz stood and eyed Draco as though he were a wild beast. "Wh – what do you – ?"

"Don't give me that, you little – " Draco broke off as he grasped Liz roughly by the elbow, hard enough to make her whimper in pain. "I thought you were different, Liz," he hissed. "I thought that you were one of the _few_ people who _didn't_ see me as a _replica_ of my father!"

"I don't see you as your father, Draco!" Liz pleaded, trying futilely to break the others grip.

"Then _why_ didn't you tell me the _truth?!!_" Draco bellowed, releasing Liz's elbow only to grasp both her shoulders as he spoke, shaking her then pushing her away harshly. "_Why_ didn't you just _tell_ me that _your brother_ killed him!!!"

"_Callen wasn't even there_!!" Liz screamed back at Draco, momentarily forgetting that she was talking about the same person as Draco was. "How could he possibly – "

CRACK!!!

Lizzy saw stars as she suddenly found herself laying on the floor, her head pounding ruthlessly in time with her rapidly beating heart. Groggily she heard people shouting at each other, but couldn't determine who it was through her foggy thoughts.

Vaguely, she recalled the words "Potter" and "Murderer", but soon, all her minds turmoil ceased after a roared: "**STUPEFY!!!**" ……

… and the world spiralled into a blissful darkness …

=====

The announcement came during Dinner that night. Everyone had been enjoying their feast of Roast Beef, Braised Chicken, Rissoles, Sausages and Chips … all but a select few.

Two sat at the Head Table, barely touching the food in front of them. They had been together when the Headmaster had visited that afternoon to inform them of the situation.

Two others sat among the students. One was looking at the other in concern after the events from that very morning … and the other was pale with worry, for they couldn't remember a significant portion of it.

=====

Hermione watched Callen from her place at the Gryffindor Table, not even glancing at the food before her. She was _very_ worried about her friend … especially after what happened that morning in Professor Snape's chambers.

She would admit, even to herself, that she was horrified when she witnessed Snape strike out at Cal like that. Of all the things Hermione had thought about Severus Snape, abusive was not among them. More so, even, after seeing how the man had treated Cal so kindly during the Summer.

She hadn't known until Cal had explained, how Draco Malfoy had laced Snape's goblet with 'Polar-Minded Draught', that the Professor wasn't behaving in such a manner voluntarily. At the time she could have strangled Malfoy for causing even _more_ strife in Cal's life. She had seen how much his fathers actions had hurt Cal, even if he knew it wasn't intentional.

Not long afterwards, Cal had suddenly declared he had to leave, and she hadn't seen him since. At least, not until dinner started, and he'd walked in as though someone had died…

=====

The Great Hall quietened down and the students all looked up at the Head Table when Albus rose from his chair. The Headmaster wore a distant expression and there was no sparkle in his blue eyes. Both were troublesome enough, to those who knew him well enough.

"I do apologise for interrupting your meal, especially with news as worrisome as this. With times as they are, and the Dark Lords forces gaining power and numbers, it is my duty to inform you that one of our students has gone missing."

An alarmed smatter of mutterings erupted around the Great Hall, as members from each House looked up and down their tables, searching for anyone they knew, that might not be present.

It did not take a large amount of time for the noise at the Slytherin table to increase, drawing the attention of the other three Houses.

"Silence please, everyone," Dumbledore spoke over the growing din. The noise dwindled and everyone, bar the Slytherins, redirected their attention back to the white-haired Wizard. "As I am sure most have noticed, our missing member is indeed a Slytherin. Draco Malfoy was last seen by his housemates as he exited the Common Room before breakfast this morning. Upon further investigation, it was found that the next to see him was Miss Hermione Granger. After a small altercation, Mr Malfoy was next spotted with young Elizabeth Snape, entering an old classroom near the Dungeon level.

"It should be noted that, Miss Snape was admitted to the Infirmary early this afternoon anonymously. Not to worry though, for she is only sporting a black eye and a slight concussion. Mr Malfoy however, has not been seen nor heard of since."

Dumbledore gazed around the Great Hall, his eyes hard and unforgiving. The students were muttering amongst themselves, yet the Slytherin table remained poised.

"I must clarify," Dumbledore continued, "that, if any foul play has befallen Mr Malfoy, and it is discovered to be by a student at this school … regardless of who they are, they _will_ be expelled from Hogwarts, or if age permits … arrested and sent to a Ministry Holding Cell … Trial pending …"

=====

Sunday seemed not to exist, as the student body absorbed what Dumbledore had threatened the night before. Not only that, but many were both worried and curious about Draco Malfoys strange disappearance.

With what had been revealed by the Headmaster, plus the threat of expulsion _and_ arrest … many had come to the grim conclusion that the Slytherin was dead.

Scary thing was, even the Professors did nothing to change their minds.

=====

The world was spinning. There was fear and rage swirling in the air. A blonde flash … yelling … black hair splayed over the floor … Animalistic fury … The world tunneled inward … his ears were ringing …

"**STUPEFY!!**"

Callen awoke with a start, bolting upright in his bed in the Boys Dormitory, gasping for breath. Bright green eyes darted about, unaware of his body trembling, nor his clammy skin. Even now, his blurry dream was slipping away, the fuzzy details becoming more so until nothing remained.

Ignoring his own unease, Callen realized that he was the last to wake. Frowning, he looked at the clock … and let loose a string of profanities that would have even the filthiest mouth cringing.

It was Monday.

Ron returned today.

Double NEWT Potions was first.

It was ten past nine.

Shit.

=====

Hermione was growing more concerned every moment. Potions had started ten minutes ago, and she still had no idea where Cal was. She had searched him out during breakfast, but even Lizzy (who had been deemed healthy enough to return to classes) seemed to not know his whereabouts.

Almost no one had noticed though, for most of the population seemed to be focused on the return of Ron Weasley, who for his part seemed to be lapping up the attention. At least, the attention from the Gryffindors. Most of the other Houses were glaring at him, for all of them had members who had been injured in the explosion he'd created, first lesson of term.

And here they were again. One whole month later. Ron was sitting alone, for no one wanted anything to do with him. It didn't stop him from grinning at everyone as though nothing had occurred between them.

It made Hermione nervous. She looked at the clock …

Eleven past nine…

=====

Hagrid lifted his crossbow higher, his eyes and ears well familiar with the sounds of the Forbidden Forrest. Fang walked briskly him, assisting in his search.

Hagrid had noticed a few of the carnivorous creatures in the woods were wandering closer to the school than usual. His herd of Thestrals had been behaving strangely for the past day or so, too. With the Malfoy boy missing, Hagrid wasn't taking any chances. The Thestrals wouldn't harm any human, Hagrid knew. He'd bred them off it. The other creatures however … they were another matter.

Suddenly, Fang growled and stopped walking, sniffing the air off the side of the trail.

"Wha' s'matter, boy?" Hagrid asked, turning and eyeing the shadows warily. Fang growled again, louder than before and darted forward, into the bushes.

"Fang!" Hagrid hissed, not wanting to yell and attract the attention on the Centaurs again. Shaking his shaggy head, Hagrid quickly followed his faithful hound with surprising stealth for a man his size.

Hagrid never lost sight of his dog, weaving in and out of trees and shrubbery. A foul odour reached his nose, making him cringe. Well, at least he knew how Fang had noticed it.

Passing through another thick patch of bushes, Hagrid found that he now stood in a small clearing. Fang was sniffing and pawing at a patch of earth that looked undisturbed. He edged closer. He could hear whinnying nearby, meaning the Thestrals had been drawn to the area.

Not a promising prospect.

He turned back to Fang and notice that his foot was bleeding. "'Ere now, Fang," he chastised gently, stepping forward and kneeling to inspect the paw. "Settle down now … tha's it boy…"

Hagrid almost gagged as he leant closer, the stench was so strong. Trying his best to ignore it, he inspected Fangs paw, only to find no wound on it. Confused, Hagrid released his hound, only to observe Fang begin clawing away at something on the ground –

Hagrid narrowed his eyes and looked closer. Fang was scratching at least three inches from the dirt …

Shakily, Hagrid extended his crossbow, inching toward the air in front of him. It his something solid … and he couldn't see it.

It was invisible.

Hastily, Hagrid pulled a small whistle from around his neck and blew. It made no sound, but a moment later, a burst of flame and a haunting melody announced the arrival of Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix.

"Go get Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid whispered hurriedly. "Bring 'im 'ere, Fawkes…"

With a small trill, the magnificent bird spread his wings and disappeared in a flash of flame.

=====

When Callen had rushed into the classroom, looking dishevelled and as though he'd only just climbed out of bed, Professor Snape looked extremely displeased.

Cal cringed and sat at his seat, apologising for his lateness softly to his father as he did so. Ron looked as though Christmas had come early.

"And _what_, pray tell, was so much more important than turning up to a NEWT class _on time_, Mr Snape? A class you happen to be apprenticing in, no less?"

Cal looked at his table, "I – err … I overslept, sir…"

Snape quirked an eyebrow and glared, spitting out, "Well then, you'll just be making up the time after class, won't you. Oh and, ten points from Slytherin for every minute you were late…"

Shocked gasps travelled the room, both in outrage and surprise. Snape had never taken points from his own House before, and here he'd done it with his son.

"That's a hundred and twenty points!" Cal exclaimed, more shocked than anything else. He snapped his mouth shut though, as he realized what he'd done.

Snape gazed down at him coolly. "That's another twenty," he growled.

The Slytherins in the room groaned, throwing nasty looks at Cal, while most of the other students looked positively gleeful that the Snakes had been reduced to all of thirty points in the last two minutes. Hermione was glaring at Snape in askance, but it was nothing compared to the glare Cal was giving him

"Why are you punishing the _whole House_ for something _I_ did?"

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that!" Snape snapped dangerously. Even Cal looked chastised by the tone. "Detention, tonight. Nine o'clock. Be late and you'll regret it…"

Snape looked satisfied when Cal nodded in defeat. He looked around the class and drew his eyebrows together at what he saw. "Due to Mr Snape's thirst for attention, not one of you added the Asphodel in the allotted window of opportunity, making the brew unsalvageable. As reward for disrupting my class Syllabus for the year yet again, Mr Snape has just lost the remaining thirty points in the Slytherin Hourglass."

The Slytherins jaws all dropped. Snape's smile was colder than the Arctic as he stared at Callen.

"Congratulations."

=====

"He shouldn't have done that."

Class had been dismissed early and Cal was leaning against the wall in a small alcove down the hall. His eyes were shut, but he recognised the light voice of Blaise Zabini.

"Done what?" Cal answered wearily, keeping his eyes closed.

"I know why he's doing it," was the other boy's response, making Cal open his eyes suddenly. "The other Slytherins won't be mad at you for long, if that's what's worrying you. They'll question why he did it soon enough too."

"How do you know?" Cal asked cautiously, referring to Blaise's first statement.

Blaise smirked.

"I know a lot of things…"

=====

"Where was he found, Albus?" asked Severus, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the body lying on the Hospital bed before him.

"He was found in a small clearing in the Forbidden Forrest, Severus. He was invisible when Hagrid summoned me, so someone, or something, clearly did not wish the body found."

Severus's eyes raked over the still body, desperately searching for any sign of life.

"Is he dead?"

When there was no reply from the Headmaster, Severus closed his eyes and told himself to remain calm. He would _not_ lose his composure over this.

"Severus," said Albus gently. "I do not believe that this was intentional – "

"How could it possibly not have been?!!" Severus barked harshly. "He was _invisible_, Albus! Whoever did this was trying to cover it up! It was murder, plain and simple, and – "

"He was Stupefied, Severus."

Snape broke off and tried t reign in his temper while processing the Headmasters words.

"Stupefied?" he repeated, stunned. "But – How could that have killed him?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It was an extremely potent Stunner, Severus. So potent in fact, that it subdued every bodily function, down to his heart, lungs … even brain activity ceased…"

"Effectively killing him on the spot," Severus finished, his voice a pained whisper. Albus pat him on the shoulder softly.

"I shall inform the staff immediately, and make the announcement tonight. Tomorrows lessons will be cancelled."

Severus could only nod, unable to speak due to the lump in his throat. Dumbledore sighed again, before turning and exiting the Infirmary, leaving the Potions Master alone with his thoughts.

Snape stood stoically by the bedside, fighting against the turmoil building within him desperately. He pushed away the burning in his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. Slowly, he reached out a hand and pulled the white sheet up and over the peaceful features.

Taking a last calming breath, Snape turned and marched from the ward, pausing for only a moment at the doors, whispering, "Goodbye, Draco…"


	50. Comforts and Antidotes

Chapter Fifty: Comforts and Antidotes

Callen stared at Blaise, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock.

"What do you mean he's dead?!"

Not long after accosting him in the alcove down from the Potions classroom, Blaise had told him to meet back in their Dorm during lunch. Apparently, the smaller boy needed to show him something.

Blaise didn't look amused at Cal's question. "The statement speaks for itself," he replied. "I know that Draco's been killed, because otherwise, _this_, wouldn't have appeared in my trunk."

Blaise held up a small leather bound journal in his hand. Cal eyed it warily.

Smirking, Blaise said, "Still edgy around diaries, are you?"

"You would be too if a mini Voldemort popped out of – _what_?!"

"As I said," said Blaise, ignoring Cal's fearful gaze. "I know a lot of things…"

Cal stood from his bed, gritting his teeth and hissed, "_How?_"

"Well, most of it is written in here," said Blaise, giving the journal a small wave. "But I already knew most of it anyhow. What _is_ interesting though, is how this journal has captured Draco's death. It was one of the charms he'd slaved to place on it. Naturally it's a Dark spell. Listen to this…" Blaise opened the journal to its latest, and last page.

"Dear Journal…"

* * *

Ron Weasley grinned maliciously, holding his Extendable Ear tighter as he listened to Blaise Zabini read out the cause of Draco Malfoys death, completely unaware that he was listening in. The two Slytherins were too complacent in their own territory, not even putting up Silencing Charms before talking about such sensitive information.

Ron didn't know what Zabini was claiming to know, nor how he knew it … but he didn't care. The information he was hearing was enough to rid Harry Potter from every decent persons life forever…

* * *

Hermione was watching the head table, her concern rising with every Professor she eyed. Each looked almost as bad as they did when Cedric Diggory had been killed during the Tri Wizard Tournament, one and a half years ago. Professor Snape looked the worst in her opinion. None of the other students would have noticed, but after getting to know him better over the summer, she could tell that something horrible had happened.

Hermione's eyes found Lizzy's, who also had barely touched her lunch, and could see that the younger girl had spotted the bleakness surrounding the teachers as well. Or maybe her Empathy made it more noticeable to her?

Whatever the possibilities, Hermione was distracted by Ron, strutting into the Great Hall, an impossibly smug expression on his face. She sat, the endless possibilities whirling through her mind for some time. Ron had half finished his plate of food when two more figures strolled into the Hall, though they were being much more discreet about it.

Cal and Blaise Zabini had arrived at the Slytherin table. Hermione watched as Cal took his customary seat by Liz, Blaise sitting beside him. Hermione noted that Cal seemed unduly shocked by something that must have occurred before the pairs arrival. He looked a little pale too.

Liz must have noticed, or felt, the same, for Cal was giving his sister a reassuring word and had slung his arm over her shoulders. This seemed to satisfy the young Snape, for she beamed up at her brother before turning to her meal.

Shrugging, Hermione put the incident to the back of her mind, mentally memoing herself to ask Cal about it later, then turned her attention to her lunch…

Sensing a strange change in atmosphere around her, Hermione looked around subtly … to see that Ron had stopped eating and was instead staring over at Cal and Blaise … grinning like a madman at a massacre…

* * *

I often wondered if life would ever be normal, for someone like me. Though now, I wonder if there was ever such a thing? I imaging that these last few weeks is the closest to normal I'll ever experience.

Apart from the news of Draco Malfoys death and the investigation into it, my life has been rather quiet. Ron has barely said two words to me … but I expected little else from him.

I have avoided my father since our last meeting. It was just after the whole of Slytherin house had held a private Memorial in Draco's honour. I knew he would be there, and to show up was a bad idea on my part … but I needed to be there as well.

He saw me standing there in the background, and as the effect of the Potion had slowly become more potent as time passed, he did not wait for the privacy of his chambers before he flew at me.

He made me bleed for the first time that day…

I didn't fight back until Lizzy had tried to get him to stop. It was the first time my father had lashed out at anyone other than me.

The other Slytherins were just as shocked as we were. They had been told of Malfoys potion in an effort to stop all the questions of lost points and his cruel treatment of me in public.

It was when I saw my father strike Lizzy that a familiar sensation flooded through me. I knew that what Blaise had told me was true, at that moment.

My father had seemed just as shocked by his actions as anyone else, and it was in this window of opportunity that I had struck my father with such a force he had flown backwards, demolishing every piece of furniture in his path. He had stopped at the wall, which still had a large crack down the middle of it.

I personally don't remember most of all this. Lizzy was the one to relay it too me. After knocking my father senseless, and leaving the Slytherins scared for life, I'd imagine, I had taken Lizzy up to the Astronomy Tower with me. I healed her cheek and she helped me calm down.

We didn't return to the dorms for some time, that night, and it was only when we went to leave that she had pointed out that I had not allowed my injuries to heal.

I remember telling her that, because the others had seen, it would seem strange to suddenly return with no injuries at all.

It was also not until that night, that I had realized just what a strange relationship Lizzy and I shared. After I had told her my reasons for keeping my afflictions, he had smiled up at me sadly. I had been holding her gently around the waist, ready to Paft us back to the Dungeons. I still remember clearly how she had run her fingers lightly over my bruises, pausing on the cuts over my eyebrow and on my lip.

I remember staring down at her, completely baffled by her behaviour … when she slowly bent my head and kissed them both lightly. I admit at the time I thought she'd lost her mind. I mean, I'd never seen any sibling exchange a kiss on the lips before. It wasn't until later, after we'd talked a little about it, that we knew that there was nothing romantic behind it. We were both Empathic, able to read and decipher the feelings that almost no one else would know we were feeling. A deeper affection only seemed natural with us, compared to what normal siblings would be like.

Later on that same night, Lizzy had come from her dorm to sit with me by the fire. It was there that she told me that, because of the way I'd been raised and treated at the Dursleys, I needed more physical affection than most others my age. I had never really experienced it before, and so, had acquired a strange craving for it.

I remember scoffing at the idea initially … but she had been right. She had proven it to me in the weeks up till now. An particularly sleepless nights, she would always sneak into the dorm to lay with me, as though she could feel my inner turmoil herself. A always slept peacefully afterwards.

She'd made it a point to hold my hand as we walked to breakfast or dinner together, and it amazed me at how much warmer I felt because of it. She would walk up to me and give me a hug for no reason at all … yet I could burst with happiness each time she did it, walking away beaming at me. She gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek every night before she headed off to bed, or if I opted for a waking night, would sit by me with her head resting on my shoulder. She would often fall asleep there, and I adored her for it.

We were up on the Astronomy Tower again tonight. It was Halloween tomorrow, and our fathers antidote will finally be finished. I was extraordinarily nervous about how my father would behave, and that's when Liz had hugged me firmly about the neck, telling me everything would be fine. I was very doubtful, remembering everything he'd done in the past two months, but Liz had brought her lips softly and reassuringly to mine for a brief moment.

It had only been the second time she'd done so, but this time, as I'd looked down at her, she told me, for the first time, that she loved me.

I'm ashamed to say that, I was so shocked by the sudden declaration, I'd asked her to say it again, just to make sure I didn't dream it. She'd again smiled at me with that sad expression…

"I love you, Callie…"

I could have cried, right there on the spot. But I didn't. I just gathered her tiny frame into my arms and hugged her tightly. How could I respond to something like that, when I'd never known what it felt like before? I'd tried to say the same words back to her, but she'd stopped me. I'm glad she did, because, It was such a foreign feeling to me. I don't even know if I love her…

How could she love me if I can't even say it back?

"Because you're my brother … and you don't have to say it. I feel it every day…" Liz spoke up quietly from where she sat on his lap, enfolded in his arms. She sounded as though she'd just woken from a brief nap.

"I'm sorry," Cal said, gently kissing her on the temple. "Did I wake you? Was I not shielding properly?"

"It wasn't your thoughts, Cal," Liz replied sleepily. "Your emotions are everywhere … though it's not hard to guess why…"

"I'm sorry…"

Liz slapped his leg, "Don't apologise, Cal. You don't need to say it to me, and I don't need to hear it from you. I feel it whenever you're around – "

"But I should at least say it back!"

"Cal!" Liz scolded, sounding much older than she was. "I grew up, always hearing from my mother how much she loved me. I grew up, _feeling_ it from her, all the time, okay? I don't need to _hear_ it from you, because your heart tells me every day … you understand?" Cal nodded. "But you've never had that, Callie … so that's why I will continue to tell you how much I love you. Then maybe one day, you'll feel comfortable with the fact that someone does. Then, you will recognise the feeling when someone _does_ love you … and that will be the day when I will hear you speak those words back to me … because you'll know they are the truth…"

* * *

When Blaise Zabini rose from his bed Halloween morning, it was to the now familiar sight of Callen and Elizabeth Snape, sound asleep in the senior boys four poster.

He could tell that the pair were more than just brother and sister to each other. After all, he didn't know many siblings that shared a room at their age, much less a bed.

In fact, Blaise had been watching them both over the past few weeks, and he would almost say that the pair were Soul Mates, unfortunate enough to find the other in the form of a sibling.

After seeing them together though, he found he didn't care about their relation to each other. They clearly brought the other comfort and affection, and so long as that was all it remained, he would gladly leave them be.

* * *

Severus knew that almost all of his Slytherins didn't buy the story they had created, spouting on about "Accidental Magic" to explain Cal's phenomenal strength, the day he'd clouted him into oblivion. Thankfully though, they knew when to leave a subject alone. None had questioned him about it, and he also knew that they were looking forward to his taking the antidote as he himself was.

In retrospect, Severus was thankful that he didn't make Callen angry very often. The boy had broken his jaw in three places, and had given him several hairline fractures in his cranium. He was also lucky that his neck didn't snap with the force that Cal had hit him with, nor broken his spine when he'd hit the common room wall.

If not for his Metahuman toughness, he'd have been killed instantly.

"They're waiting for you, Severus," Dumbledore's voice called through the laboratory door. "It looks as though the whole of Slytherin has turned out for your, _unveiling, _as it were … even Miss Granger is here…"

Severus rolled his eyes, "Of _course_ she's here," he muttered, slowly bottling the complete antidote. He added one ladle full to the vial in his hand.

This was it.

He had a lot of apologising to do.

He brought the vial to his lips and tossed it back, almost gagging at the taste of it. Almost instantly, a haze seemed to clear from his mind, the old opinions and ideals returning to him. However, with them, came a conscience that was working correctly. Guilt ripped through his mind, remembering everything he'd said and done to those he cared for and were most proud of.

"Severus?" Albus's muffled voice called gain, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you ready?"

The Potions Master straightened his shoulders and prepared himself. He made a decision right there and then. He no longer cared about his 'Snarky Bastard' reputation … his spying days were over. He _would_ show those that mattered most, that he cared about them, regardless of company, public or private.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he muttered quietly, opening the door.


	51. Of Showing and Telling

Hey there everyone. I'm terribly sorry about how long you've had to wait for this Chapter, but my muse was refusing to work for me. She only just recently came back.

Also ... I know that I have this as a H/Hr ficcy, and I will assure you that it will eventuate. I'm just not sure when. No, Liz and Cal's relationship will not be romantic, even if it does tend to cross some of the social boundries. They are both Empathic and are this close to being one mind. Greater displays of physical affection just seem to be the best way to get that across.

Anyway ... I found another plot bunny the other day, and when you get to the end you'll understand what I mean. Happy reading and please review!! I live on them, esspecialy constructive critisisim.

Now ... To the chapter!!!

**XXXXXX**

**Chapter Fifty One: Of Showing and Telling**

Ronald Weasley was not the only person to notice that almost all of the Slytherins had failed to show for breakfast, on the morning of Halloween. Not that he cared where they all were, but he _was_ curious to know what could have happened to make _none_ of the senior students show, nor the majority of the juniors?

As an afterthought, Ron glanced along his own table, thinking that maybe he'd missed some sort of announcement or notice…

Ron stopped as he noticed another presence missing.

"Oi! Lavender! Have you seen Hermione today?"

The other girl turn around to look at him questioningly before shaking her head. "She was gone before we woke up," she replied, pointing to her other dorm mate, Parvati Patil. "Nothing unusual recently, why?"

Ron frowned, ignoring her query. "What do you mean by nothing unusual?"

Lavender shrugged, "Well she's usually gone earlier than us," she said. "We used to ask her where she could possibly need to go that early of a morning, but she always told us that she was just in the library."

"Well, I think Hermione's got a guy on the side," Parvati grinned, causing both her and Lavender to giggle quietly.

Ron's eyes narrowed, but the two girls didn't seem to notice. "Who?" he asked, appearing simply curious.

"We don't really know," Parvati answered. "But we're pretty sure it's one of the Slytherins."

"Yuck!" Seamus exclaimed, his face screwed up n disgust. He'd obviously been listening in on the conversation. "A Slimy Slytherin! That's gross, there's not a decent looking fella in 'em! And … a _Slytherin_?" Seamus shook his head, scowling.

"Are you kidding?" Lavender exclaimed, seeming mortally wounded by the statement. "That Zabini isn't too bad on the eyes – "

"Snape Jr is a bit of hunk too," Parvati gushed.

Lavender sighed dreamily, "I wonder who his mother was? She would have had to have been beautiful to compensate for Professor Snape's face…"

Seamus and Ron looked as though they would be sick.

"You've got to be joking?!" Ron spat. "Well I bet you wouldn't feel the same if you knew what _I_ know about him!"

"What's to know?" said Parvati, dumbfounded by Ron's vehemence. "He's _gorgeous_…"

Ron eyed the two girls appraisingly. They were the two biggest gossips in the whole school. Whatever he told them would spread through the rumour mill like wildfire. _Perfect_.

"I need to tell you three something," said Ron finally, including Seamus due to the way he'd responded the previous year about the reports of Harry Potters growing insanity. Yes, the Irish boy was rather gullible. "Come with me."

Lavender, Parvati and Seamus looked puzzled, but they still rose from their seats and followed the redhead.

No one took notice when Ginny Weasley rolled up a small, string-like object and also stood from the table.

She needed to find Professor McGonagall…

XXXXXX

"What are you doing here, Granger?" Pansy Parkinson sneered as she walked into the crowded Classroom. Hermione had been standing near the back, trying not to draw any unwanted attention to herself. "Professor Snape isn't _your_ Head of House." Pansy smirked as Crabbe and Goyle walked in behind her, effectively boxing the Gryffindor in.

Hermione saw Blaise standing across the room, looking over at her and Pansy suspiciously. She saw him move to approach but she shook her head subtly. She didn't want to get him on his Houses bad side. He looked unsure of her decision but obediently remained steadfast.

"No big, bad Gryffindor friends to hide behind anymore, eh Mudblood?" Pansy drawled. "Not even Weasley is willing to risk hanging around filth like you anymore, now that Potty isn't around to – "

"Miss Parkinson," a silky Baritone interrupted. "I strongly recommend you desist your current conversation, for to do otherwise would compromise your impeccable record of good health."

Pansy smiled and turned to face Callen's stony expression, shamelessly flirting with him by running a finger lightly down the front of his chest, ignoring the blatant threat. "Oh, Callie! I didn't see you come in…"

"Do _not_ call me that," Cal growled, ignoring her finger, elbowing past Goyle's bulk easily and standing next to Hermione. "And you wouldn't have seen me." He didn't elaborate. "Now, Hermione has just as much right to be here for my father as anyone else does," Cal continued, glaring at Pansy, who was scowling uglily. "Also," he added, taking a step towards the shorter Slytherin, "If I ever hear that vulgarity uttered from your lips again, I _shall_ remove you of your tongue … are we quite clear?"

Pansy had paled a shade and swallowed awkwardly. "Crystal," she replied, even though defiance was still shining clearly in her eyes.

Ever since Draco Malfoys disappearance, (and subsequent death and burial), Pansy had become the insult throwing, snob nosed, top shot of Slytherin House. She was not as popular as Draco had been, however.

Callen smirked at Pansy's answer. "So glad we understand each other, Miss Parkinson." His smile softened as he turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger," he purred, not seeing Pansy turn green with jealousy at his tone. Hermione did though, as Cal held out his elbow. "If you will?"

Hermione grinned at Pansy devilishly, hooking her own arm through Callen's, "Why I'm honoured, Callie."

Pansy's jaw dropped when Cal only smiled at the softer abbreviation of his name. "_What_?!" she screeched, stepping in front of the pair as they started over toward where Blaise was waiting and watching. She angrily jabbed Cal in his chest with her finger, "You allow this two-faced Mud – "

"Finish that sentence, Parkinson!" Cal snapped as he glared down at Pansy, his eyes flashing in icy anger. "I _beg_ you…"

Pansy's mouth closed with a loud snap, but her glare shifted from Cal to Hermione, intensifying tenfold as she did so.

"_There_ you are, Callie!"

Cal's scowl instantly morphed into a wide smile as Lizzy weaved between some of the older students toward them. He held out his free arm and wrapped his sister in it when she reached him. Lizzy responded by hugging him fiercely around the waist.

"Another one?!" Pansy burst out incredulously, pointing at Liz accusingly.

Cal glared at her again, but this time when he replied, his voice was dripping with sarcasm. "She's my _sister_, Miss Parkinson…"

Pansy smirked cruelly at the statement, but before she could say anything, the door to Snape's Potions Storeroom opened wide, revealing a smiling Professor Dumbledore. Everyone became silent; many were craning their necks in an effort to look around the ageing Headmaster, to the door of the potions lab beyond.

XXXXXX

Ginny stood nervously outside Professor McGonagall's office door, twisting her hands anxiously as she furiously debated turning in her brother or not. She bit her lip and slowly raised her hand, fisting it and rapping swiftly on the oak before she lost her nerve.

Professor McGonagall's stern voice was soon heard, beckoning her to enter. Ginny did so and nervously approached her Head of House.

McGonagall glanced up from her paperwork momentarily, "Yes, Miss Weasley? What can I help you with?" When Ginny made no reply, the elderly witch lifted her steely gaze. "Miss Weasley?" she asked again.

Ginny willed her hands to still their trembling and held her Professors gaze. "Professor," she said finally, unable to keep the small waver from her voice. "It's about Ron…"

XXXXXX

"Why are we in the Room of Requirement?" Lavender asked as soon as Parvati, Seamus and Ron had also entered the room. "Ron?"

Shutting the door behind him, Ron led the small group towards the small setting of chairs the Room provided for them. Gesturing for them to sit, he took out his wand and cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door (Hermione wasn't the only one with reading skills), before sitting in the last chair.

"All right," Ron said, leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I was listening in on a couple of Slytherins the other day, and I found out something rather interesting about Snape Jr." He frowned over at Lavender and Parvati, "You think he's so great looking and everything? Well guess what. He's a murderer!"

Blank looks followed this declaration, until Parvati chortled and shot Ron an uncertain smile.

"Excuse me?" she spluttered. "What on earth makes you think that? Some Slytherins? You've got to be joking!"

Ron shook his head, "This is no joke, Parvati. He killed Malfoy." The smile faded from Parvati's features as the others gasped at the statement. "And that's not all," Ron continued harshly. "I found out by overhearing Snape talking to Zabini about the way it was _done_…"

"One of our year mates is a murderer, and another is an accomplice?" Seamus barked out angrily. "Why haven't you _told_ anyone about it?!!"

Ron blinked. It was a good question.

XXXXXX

Jessica stood in a shadowed corner, keeping out of Severus's limelight as he entered the room; Albus had stepped aside and let him through, the room exclaiming welcome to their Head of House. Many of the students that had seen Severus erupt at Draco Malfoy's Memorial were amongst the most vocal. Her eyes swept the dimly lit area, noting that most were happy to have Severus back to normal, but there were a select few that were obviously unhappy with the situation. Of note were the Parkinson girl and the two lunks that followed her around. The Nott boy was another to watch. These few were obviously those that were suspicious of Severus's loyalty to the Dark, however in order to avoid notable attention, they still showed up to support their Head of House.

If she were to be honest with herself, though, Jess prayed that Severus would forego any future attempts to spy for Albus. The chance that he would never return was to high a price to pay, especially now that he had a responsibility to Liz and Cal. To her.

"Professor?" Jess started slightly at the soft voice beside her, and turned to face one of her more pleasant Slytherin students, Blaise Zabini. "Is something wrong?" he continued, appearing genuinely concerned. "Are you worried about Cal?"

Jess frowned and shook her head, "No, why? Should I be?" Her eyes travelled over the crowd, searching for the robust form of her nephew.

"Oh," said Blaise, sounding a little surprised. "I apologise, Professor. It's just … he doesn't look as pleased with Professor Snape's cure as I thought he would."

After glancing at Blaise, Jess followed his line of sight until she too, saw where Cal was standing. He was by the far wall, Hermione standing next to him. She saw Liz throw his arm off and dart towards her father. Cal almost visibly flinched at the suddenness of it. Jess smiled as she watched Liz dash toward Sev, but she was taken by surprise at the open and broad grin on Severus's features as he enveloped his daughter and a tight embrace.

A wave of muttering followed the action, for many Slytherins were unaccustomed to such open displays of affection, much less from their Head of House. Students were openly pointing and staring, but Sev and Liz were oblivious to it all. Jess though, felt lighter than air at the sight of Severus openly showing such emotion. She looked over everyone's heads to see Albus still standing in the small alcove between the lab and the classroom. His blue eyes were as bright as she's ever seen them before.

A flurry of movement near the far wall drew the eyes away, just as Liz twisted in her fathers grip, also to stare, shocked, at the far wall. Following the line of sight, Jess only just spotted a tall figure disappear around the frame of the door. The much slighter form of Hermione darted out not two seconds later.

"Cal, you moron!" was quietly exclaimed at her shoulder, right before Blaise also stormed from the room, looking disgruntled about something.

Blue eyes swivelled to meet black, unmistakable hurt and resignation lying in the latter.

XXXXXX

"Cal!!" Hermione shouted as she rounded the end of the corridor, stopping dead when the other was nowhere to be seen. "Damn," she cursed under her breath, only to jump out of her skin when a hand closed around her wrist.

"Cursing is unbecoming of you, Granger," Blaise commented easily. He pulled her gently down the hall a little further before closing his eyes and frowning in concentration.

Hermione was curious by the other boys behaviour but remained silent.

"Okay," he muttered finally, opening his eyes. "Granger, I know that you know everything about Cal," Hermione opened her mouth to demand what he was talking about, but Blaise bet her to it, "and so I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth tight about me also."

Hermione didn't get a chance to respond before they both vanished in a swirl of flame.


	52. Learning To Share

Hey Everyone!! Sorry about the wait, and a I've hit a small block with my Muse, this is what you've got. Two words: Real Life. I don't know when the next chapter will be out, but hopefully it will be earlier than this one took.

Don't forget to review!!

**Chapter Fifty Two: Learning To Share**

Hermione leapt from Blaise's arms as soon as the flames dissipated, whirling to stare at him, wide eyed and backing away.

"What the _hell _was that?!!!" she practically shrieked, feeling her hands shaking with the shock delivered to her system.

Blaise seemed unaffected by Hermione's current demeanour toward him, merely blinking at the sudden outburst. "That can be explained to you at a later time," he replied smoothly. He turned toward the door they'd appeared beside and opened it, stepping back immediately to reveal the staircase to the Astronomy Tower. "Not to worry, Granger. Harry already knows of me, and I of him, but as I said … that can wait." Hermione stood, stunned, but Blaise simply gestured to the staircase and said, "Go up and see him. You saw what happened, and you can talk sense into him. Maybe convince him to visit the village today with most of the others? He could use a simple stroll through Hogsmeade."

Hermione swallowed nervously and let her eyes flick to the open doorway before returning to the almost pleading eyes of the boy in front of her. It was true that she had noticed Cal's poor reaction to Liz pulling away from him like that in order to dash toward her father, but she didn't really understand why it had upset him so. Did Blaise know more than he was letting on? She was unsure, but then, she was also unsure of what he'd done to get them both up here so quickly. She only pondered the request a moment longer, deciding that she would try to get Cal to calm whatever was troubling his mind, and coax him to visit Hogsmeade with her. It was a Hogsmeade day due to Halloween, and Hermione agreed that a short trip to the quaint village might unravel Cal's nerves a little.

"All right," she nodded, stepping towards the stairs. Blaise merely jerked his head in thanks before turning around and striding down the corridor, disappearing around the corner. Hermione watched him leave, took a deep breath, and began to climb.

XXXXXX

Ron watched, self-satisfied, as the school owl flew away into the distance. He'd never felt so exhilarated before in his life, knowing what it was that was in the letter, and the subsequent actions that would be put into motion due to its contents. He almost felt all powerful, to know he had held such control over someone else's fate.

He was glad that he'd split off from his other Year Mates after they'd deserted the Room of Requirement, for this was an experience he never wanted to share with anyone.

Ron didn't know how long he'd stared dreamily from the Owlery, when a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention out on one of the taller towers. At first he couldn't tell who had suddenly emerged on the top of the Astronomy Tower, but the next moment, his eyes widened in alarm and recognition, as the figure suddenly changed size and sprouted a set of wings and tail.

"Harry?" Ron whispered almost wistfully. He abruptly shook his head, remembering that this was now "_Callen Snape_…" not his former friend. He let a malicious grin form on his lips, just staring at the statue-like body as the wings were extended slightly, as though for balance. It was only then that Ron saw that the Avatar was standing easily on the very edge of the parapet.

_Too bad he's got wings,_ Ron thought viciously, a renewed resolve that the letter he'd just loosed was the right thing to do_. Maybe the second attempt would work better than the first…? _The smirk that momentarily lit up the red-heads features vanished just as abruptly as a second figure entered the highest classroom; their identity was extremely obvious due to the large amount of bushy hair blowing about in the breeze.

Hermione.

Ron scowled deeply, watching the pair as they shared a few words together. It seemed that they were having a mild argument, what with all the agitated hand gestures they were flinging about. Ron sneered when he saw Snape abruptly turn his back on Hermione, the large wings just barely missing the girl, steadfastly ignoring any further attempts to engage him in conversation. Ron harrumphed and turned away, not wishing to throw up his breakfast, which he was sure he'd do if he had to watch the couple quarrelling any longer.

_Soon, _Ron thought to himself as he walked briskly toward the Library, intent on looking up a particular spell that would achieve his desired effect._ Soon it'll be all over for you, little Snape … and I will be the victor, basking in my spoils… _

XXXXXX

The Potions classroom had only just emptied of the last few celebrating stragglers, finally leaving for Hogsmeade due to Halloween, and leaving the last four occupants to their troubled thoughts.

Severus was sitting on his desk, Liz sitting beside and leaning against him. Severus' arm was slung over the smaller girl comfortingly, for the girl seemed most distraught about something. Severus himself seemed dazed, his eyes unfocused and blank.

Jessica had taken a stool at the desk right beside her immediate family, her forehead resting against her palm, staring at the stained and pitted wooden table her elbows rested on.

Albus Dumbledore was standing off to the side a bit, his blue eyes gazing at the door to the room, almost as though he were expecting someone to come barging in at any moment.

All in all, the silence was incredibly stifling and uncomfortable, almost demanding that someone make some sort of noise or say something, but no one knew of any words to say, even if all their minds were replaying Callen's abrupt leave-taking when Severus had finally been cured of his mind-altering ailment.

The door opened all of a sudden, making everyone look up or turn to face it, in time to see Blaise Zabini stroll in and look around inquisitively.

"Party finish early, did it?" he quipped.

"Where's Callen?" Severus blurted immediately, ignoring the Slytherins slight jibe. "You followed him and Granger … what happened?"

Blaise held out his hands in a calming motion, "Now take it easy, Professor. Harry decided to take a jaunt up to the Astronomy Tower, as always, so I dropped Hermione off to talk to him sensibly about his barging out of here …" he trailed off as he noticed everyone staring at him. "What?"

Without wasting a second, Severus had drawn his wand and waved it at the door, slamming it closed and casting half a dozen silencing charms on it, before lowering his gaze back toward the slight young man in front of him.

Quite, yet deceivingly calmly, Severus said, "Mr Zabini, would you care to repeat that sentence for me, if you'd be so kind?"

Blaise looked mildly uneasy, but still obliged. "What? All said, was that Harry had – oh…" Blaise swallowed noisily as he glanced at the three adults, clearly fearful of their reaction to his knowledge about Callen's former identity.

"How do you know of that?" Severus ground out between his teeth, shooting a glare that would have felled even Voldemort on the spot. He stood from his seat on the desk and took two steps forward, bringing himself within two feet of the nervous boy. "Who could have _possibly_ told you?!"

"N-no one, Professor Snape, sir," Blaise answered, stammering slightly at the Potion Master's fearsome demeanour. "I - I worked it out on my own ages ago!"

Severus just stared blankly. "You _worked_ it out?" he sneered. "How, pray tell?"

Blaise looked around at them all, seemingly weighing his options, before his shoulders dropped noticeably, clearly in defeat. "Well … um, actually, Professor Snape, I've … ah … I've known _what_ Harry was … ever since fourth year…"

XXXXXX

"Harry…"

"Don't call me that!"

Hermione fell silent, but Cal dutifully kept his eyes forward, gazing over the Forbidden Forest. He couldn't tell how much time he'd spent up here already, nor how long it had been since Hermione had come up to him and demanded why he'd fled from the Potions room. He, himself, couldn't fully explain it in words, so after a long one-sided conversation on Hermione's part, Cal had turned and told her to leave him be.

It obviously didn't happen.

He heard a soft sigh behind him, "Harry, will you please talk to me?"

Callen shook his head wearily, leaning heavily on the edge of the parapet and letting the breeze blow through his hair and feathers. "What do you want me to say?" he finally replied, his voice projecting just how drained he was.

There was a moment of silence, then Hermione spoke softly, "Nothing. I want _you _to say what _you_ want – "

"I don't know what I want!" Cal whirled around and stared at Hermione, almost regretting raising his voice when he saw that he'd frightened her a little. Taking a couple of deep breaths to calm down, Cal raised his eyes back to Hermione and silently pleaded with her to understand. "Have you ever wanted something, Hermione?" he asked suddenly. "Wanted something, so strongly, even knowing that you will never have it in your lifetime … only to find it had been in your grasp for years, but you didn't know it?" Hermione remained silent, but Cal could see she was listening to him attentively. "Then, you have it. You feel as though something inside has finally fitted into place, but then you have to share it!" Cal blinked away the dampness in his eyes, noting that Hermione was doing the same. She knew what he was referring to. "You care about the ones you share it with, so much," he whispered, his voice thick, "So very, very much …" Cal paused and tried to regain his control, but it was a futile effort. "I found him first!" he choked out, morphing back into Harry Potter, balling his fists at his side. He saw Hermione's face tracked with tears for only a moment, before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, offering him the comfort he'd so rarely had while growing up. Cal let himself crumble into her embrace, clinging as though his very life depended on it, burying his face into the mass of bushy hair his friend had in such abundance. His shoulders shook with his sorrow and he could vaguely heard Hermione whispering comfort in his ear, her hands gently running up and down his back in a soothing motion.

_"I found him first … but he loves them more than he does me…"_ he added silently

Cal slowly settled down, though his breathing would hitch every now and then, but didn't ease his hold on Hermione, nor hers on him. Absently, Cal thought just how different it was to be held and comforted by Hermione, compared to the way Lizzy made him feel when she held him also. There was a whole new dimension to this, as though another piece of his soul had slotted into place, bringing with it a new perspective he'd never dreamed of before. There was something more, but he couldn't quite grasp it.

Beside him, Cal felt warm breath travel beneath his collar, as Hermione sighed softly into his shoulder, making him shiver involuntarily with the unexpected pleasure he derived from it. Hermione must have felt it, for she lifted her head and, while remaining in his arms, gazed at him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Cal felt his breath leave him as he stared back at her. Dried tear tracks marred the already blotchy skin on her cheeks, and Cal was sure he looked similar, but for him it was as though he was seeing a completely different person. Hermione had always been so supportive toward him, and had never once turned her back on their friendship, even after the disaster he'd lead her and others to at the end of the previous term. She understood him on a level that only one other had come even close to accomplishing. Cal smiled, realising that yet another aspect of life that he'd desired so strongly for, was standing right in front of him. Affection of an entirely different level.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, almost as though anything louder would break the moment they seemed to be immersed in.

Cal gave her a soft smile and moved his hand from Hermione's back, to rest it gently across her cheek, their eyes never diverting from the other. Cal bent his head cautiously, feeling his heart beat a little faster when Hermione made no move to stop him. His eyes darted to her lips for a moment before returning to brown eyes that shone with nervousness, alongside anticipation. He could feel her breath on his lips as they hovered, just a shadow away from touching, when Hermione closed her eyes and finally closed the gap between them.

The kiss was feather light to start, chaste and tentative, almost as though they feared the other would pull away. But soon, their lips were firmly pressed against the other, its intensity growing between them for every second they remained wrapped in each others arms. Fingers lacing through each others hair as they pressed their bodies closer together, their lips opening and closing rhythmically, the only sounds being that of their strained breathing and parting lips for momentary gasps of air.

Neither had any recollection of how much time had passed, but soon the kiss had lessened in intensity, and they stood, gazing at each other breathlessly, each recognising the profound affection they held for the other. Cal's hands rested lightly on the curve of Hermione's hips, while her arms had yet to remove themselves from around his neck. Almost simultaneously, both felt the warmth of a blush blossom across their features, also seeing the same on each other, causing them both to laugh with embarrassment.

Though, neither stepped away.

XXXXXX

Ginny chewed on her bottom lip as she watched Professor McGonagall striding briskly down the hallway ahead of her, having only just finished informing the Deputy Headmistress of what her brother, Ron, had been about to do. She remembered the way the older woman's face had turned grey before she had practically leapt from her chair and beckoned her to follow. As soon as they had reached the Entrance Hall and turned down a side passage, Ginny knew precisely where they were headed.

The Dungeons.


	53. The Beginning

I'M SORRY IT'S SHORT!! I know it's been a while since my last update, but I decided to give you all something, rather than waiting for me to finish the story completely before I posted next. Yes, that wasa warning that this story is quickly coming to a close. No clue yet on a sequal or not, but I will NOT be posting another chapter after this one until I'm finished completely. I want this story finished before Half-Blood Prince is released, so if I don't have anything else to worry about, that just might happen.

Most likely I will atempt to complete my other Fic, Not All Is As It Seems, however it will be very slow going, as my work will be resuming within the next two months.So, if there are any loose ends in A Life Of Lies that I haven't resolved satisfactorily, please tell me in a review. I should be able to explain it out in the last couple of chapters.

Enjoy!!

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Three: The Beginning**

"Since fourth year, you say?" Severus Snape repeated calmly, staring down at the conceivably smaller Blaise Zabini. "And how, prey tell, would you know that information, when no one else in the world did?"

Blaise swallowed, glancing over at Lizzy and Dumbledore for a moment, then returning his gaze to his Head of House. "Not many people knew, but my father was one of the Deatheaters to test out your serum as well, Professor. I know that Liz is, and Draco was, both Empaths … but that was never passed on to me with the same focus. Mine are different, sir."

Severus looked thoughtful for a moment, "Mr Zabini, I don't recall your father having died from burnout?"

"He didn't, sir," the boy answered, lowering his eyes to the floor. "He was killed when I was five…" Blaise paused, clearly not wishing to say more about the circumstances of his father's death. Severus looked as though he was going to push the matter, but Dumbledore cut in before he had the chance.

"If you do not possess the powers of Empathy, and Limited Telepathy, as Miss Snape and Mr Malfoy … what are you capable of, Mr Zabini?" Blaise turned to look at the aging Headmaster. "How did you unveil Mr Potter's true identity?"

"Would it matter if I said, I'd rather not say, sir?" Blaise replied, looking rather timid than most were used to, and seeming to almost beg the Headmaster to not force him to continue.

Severus, however, wouldn't let Dumbledore form a response. "Of course it matters!" he barked, making Blaise jump a little in surprise. "We need to know if the information we've been trying to keep quiet is available for anyone to peruse at their leisure? Is it based on physical evidence, or do you know due to your own abilities?"

Blaise was wringing his hands, but he didn't remove his gaze from that of his Professor as he replied, "Through my own abilities, sir." There was almost an audible sigh of relief from the occupants of the old classroom, but the tension soon returned with the boy's next sentence. "It doesn't matter though, sir, because the Dark Lord already knows about all of it. It's available to the public if he so desired it…"

Severus exhaled heavily and nodded, "Yes, Mr Zabini, we already know of that little detail. It is something that we've been brainstorming over for quite a while … though, we're no closer to a solution…"

Lizzy spoke up very quietly into the heavy silence, "Why don't we just tell everyone about him? I mean, the damage would only be worse if someone else discovered it all and released the information…"

The occupants of the room thought on the small girls suggestion for a moment, but before anyone could voice an opinion, the door swung open, revealing a rather agitated-looking Transfiguration Professor. A moment later, the youngest Weasley stepped into view.

"Minerva?" said Dumbledore, immediately picking up on his colleagues harassed demeanour.

McGonagall stepped into the room and glanced around, her steely eyes lingering on Snape for a moment longer than necessary, before resting on Dumbledore.

"Albus, we have a problem."

XXXXXX

"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade at all, today, or do you just want to go and have lunch in the Great Hall and leave it at that?"

Cal glanced down at the top of Hermione's head, as she leant against his chest, before sighing uncertainly and returning his gaze toward the slowly greying sky. It was now lunchtime, and most of the morning had been spent just sitting in each others arms, drawing some much needed comfort and stability. Of course, some of that time had been dedicated to getting to know the other a little better, both emotionally and physically … however, for the most part, Hermione had been folded in Cal's arms, soaking up the mounds of affection he'd been wanting to give for so many years.

"I think we'll take lunch in the kitchen, today," Cal answered finally, dropping a light kiss to Hermione's shoulder as he moved to stand, helping her off the stone floor as he went. "I don't really want to see Dad yet, and he's sure to be in the Great Hall…"

"Harry, you can't avoid him forever," said Hermione in a reassuring tone. "He probably doesn't even understand why you ran out of there just after he was finally cured!"

Cal just looked at his feet resignedly. "Do you think he'll be mad at me?" he asked softly, failing to hide the underlying fear that he felt about the matter.

Hermione sighed, "I honestly wouldn't know, Harry. But you won't find out unless you speak to him. And sooner, rather than later."

Cal grimaced, still quite unsure about the matter, and was just starting toward the door in order to head down to the kitchen, when he was hit by a sudden dizzy spell. The world tilted nauseatingly and a small grunt escaped his lips as he landed on his knees harshly, only barely hearing Hermione speaking to him through the ringing and fuzziness in his ears. Cal blinked rapidly as he tried to shake off whatever had afflicted his senses, placing a hand on the stone before him as a force seemed to place pressure on his mind.

Hermione was kneeling in front of him now, but Cal couldn't hear her worried words. Trying to remember his father's teachings about blocking his mind, Cal fought against a swell of panic when he realized the pressure was only getting worse, regardless of his efforts.

His own heart hammering in his chest was deafening in his terror, and Cal blearily registered that he'd pushed Hermione away from him. She needed to leave. Right now.

"Go," he gasped, staring into Hermione's watering eyes. He saw her clearly shake her head, fully intending to stay … but Cal could feel his tenuous hold on his mind slipping. "GO!!!"

Hermione started violently at his raised voice, but she had leapt to her feet and was starting to back toward the door. Her tears were spilling down her cheeks, and Cal almost felt as though this was allowing him to hold on for just a little longer.

"Get … to Dad…" was all Cal could manage to hiss, before the world started to become muted and stale to his senses. The fading vision of Hermione spinning around and sprinting out of the Tower was the last thing he recalled, before nothing in the world mattered any longer.

Control, was no longer his.

XXXXXX

The proceedings of lunch continued in the Great Hall as it did any other day of the school year. It was a little crowded, caught in the transition of those that had already enjoyed their morning in the Village, and those that were about to spend the afternoon. Plates had been filled, friends were chatting, couples were flirting.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, for those that didn't possess a sharp eye. No one noticed the subtle whisperings between the Professors up at the Head Table, nor said Professors sending sharp glares out toward the Gryffindor Table. No one spotted the nervous fidgeting of two of the Slytherins, both of whom were glancing between the Professors and Gryffindors also.

No one noticed a certain bushy-haired bookworm missing from her table. No one cared when Professor Snape stood and left through the door behind the Head Table at the summons from a small silver bird. No one (other than those watching specifically) took notice when Ron Weasley looked at his wristwatch, smirking as he did so.

Everyone noticed when the doors to the Great Hall burst open to reveal Cornelius Fudge, Percy Weasley and a Squad of Aurors.

XXXXXX

In the dark hallway, a tall figure barely noted the flickering flames of the torches in their brackets as he quickly hurried toward the origin of his summons. Severus Snape was worried. The tone of his message had been panicked at best, and the fact that it had been from the last person known to have seen his son, he was rightfully concerned. He'd never known Granger to be so incoherent. Indeed, the missive had been so garbled, he'd only understood the name of his son, and the fact that something was wrong amongst the rambling.

The nature of the spell told the receiver of the senders location, so it was a relieved, and concerned Severus Snape that opened the door to the classroom they had occupied just that morning, to find a half hysterical bushy-haired Gryffindor pacing back and forth across the floor. Severus stepped inside, but the seventeen year old was so distraught she didn't even notice, continuing to mutter to herself and wring her hands together, while also appearing on the verge of tears.

"Miss Granger?"

Severus was startled when Hermione whirled to face him in surprise, a small squeal escaping her. He had no time to think on it however, for the girl was already babbling away at lightning speed.

"Professor Snape! It's Harry! Something awful happened to him, but I don't know what it was! He told me to run and tell you, and he was in pain, but I didn't want to leave! He was fine one second and the next he just doubled over – "

Severus held up his hands in a bid to calm the girl down, "Miss Granger, do get a hold of yourself!" Hermione stopped her rambling and was just staring up at him, her breathing hitching every now and then. "Much better. Now, what's this about Callen being in trouble?"

Hermione visibly gathered her thoughts before shakily voicing them, "Harry – Callen … whatever you want to call him! He was having some kind of fit not ten minutes ago, up on the Astronomy Tower. We've been up there talking all morning, ever since he left your curing. We were about to go down to lunch when he collapsed. I was trying to get him to tell me what was wrong, but it was as if he couldn't even hear me! He looked dazed … I went to help him stand, but he pushed me away, telling me to run. I didn't want to, really I didn't! It wasn't until he looked up at me and shouted at me to go that I saw …"

Severus had been holding his breath throughout almost the whole retelling, and he let it out in an irritated whoosh when Hermione trailed off. "What did you see, Miss Granger?" he whispered, not even trying to hide the small waver in his voice at the many thoughts that could have caused such a reaction from his son.

Hermione looked utterly terrified at what she had seen in his son, but she whispered her answer to him anyway.

Severus shut his eyes in despair, only to open them in horror and pain when his Dark Mark flared to life.

XXXXXX


	54. Chapter 54 Teaser

Ok Guys! I am EXTREMELY sorry for the unforgivably long wait for any semblance of an update, but I just had the biggest road block as to how I wanted to finish up this story. I finally had something of an epiphany not long ago, and a slight outline of what I want to appear in the remaining chapters flew into my brain. I got this bit written and as you've all been waiting so long, I thought I'd post it, instead of waiting for the rest of the chapter, as even I don't know how long it will be until the chapter is complete.

I know it's not a lot, but I hope it will placate some of you enough to refrain from killing me. I hope the rest of this chapter will be quicker in coming. The complete chapter will replace this teaser once finished, so without further ado…

""""""""""

**Chapter Fifty Four Teaser **

""""""""""

_Crimson eyes stared into crimson, a maniacal sneer spreading over the reptilian features. He was immensely pleased that he'd bided his time long enough to gather enough strength to fully take over his constructs mental and physical faculties. Very soon, he would use his weapon to destroy his enemies … then watch gleefully as its own grief would tear it apart…_

""""""""""

The Great Hall was filled with the mutterings and open exclamations of it's curious occupants, watching avidly as the Minister of Magic marched purposefully toward the Head Table, his squad of Aurors and Aide behind him. The Professors were shocked by the sudden arrivals, but soon recovered and glared at the man with barely concealed resentment and irritation.

Professor Dumbledore stood regally and stared down at the assembly with the patience borne of one his age. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Cornelius?"

Fudge removed his bowlers hat and pompously placed it under one arm, motioning with the other to one of the Aurors. "I received some most disturbing news, not long ago, Albus," Fudge announced with an air of arrogance, taking a scroll of parchment from the Auror he'd signalled and flourishing it in front of him. "As you know, Albus, that during any murder investigation, any and all possible leads must be followed until exhausted. Mister Weasley here," Fudge gestured to a haughty Percy, "has done well to inform me that one of your students had corresponded with him, revealing that they had overheard another of your students confessing to the crime of murdering Draco Malfoy to another!"

The Hall erupted with noise and shouting, as students looked about fearfully, wondering who among them might be capable of murder. The Professors were also stunned by this announcement, but only a select few were privy to the truth of the matter.

Fudge was glaring up at Dumbledore triumphantly. "Also!" he continued loudly over the noise of the students, "In said correspondence, is the location of written evidence of the crime!"

Dumbledore spoke up at this point, looking fit to be tied. "Cornelius, perhaps we should continue this in my Office?"

"What for, Albus?" Fudge crowed, looking far too gleeful. "Ashamed are you? Well I don't care!" Fudge lifted the scroll before him and unrolled it, before reading loudly: "The Ministry of Magic hereby charges, for the crime of First Degree Murder: Apprentice Callen Emrys Snape!"

""""""""""

Lizzy looked on in absolute horror as her brother was charged with Malfoy's murder. Who had told? Who had known? A hand rested against her shoulder and Liz looked up into the troubled eyes of Blaise Zabini. She couldn't even speak and allowed his arm to rest across her shoulders as she leant into his side, seeking warmth where none was available. The strength and power of the feelings engulfing the hall was playing havoc with Lizzy's Empathy, but through it all she could feel Blaise's own fear, not only for her brother, but for himself. It was during the Minister's next bellowed announcement that she understood why he was afraid for himself.

"The Ministry of Magic also charges, as accomplice to First Degree Murder: Blaise Zabini!"

Gasps and screams were heard as those seated near them jumped and scurried away from them, horror seeping from them in waves making Liz feel ill. She felt only a brief tightening of his arm, before Blaise pushed her away and jumped from his seat, eyeballing the Minister and Aurors edgily, glaring at the wands trailed on him.

Fudge turned and sneered at him. "Mr Zabini, you are under arrest for being an accomplice to the murder of Draco Malfoy! Should you reach for your wand or display any aggressive behaviour, the Aurors will respond accordingly! Will you come for interrogation quietly, or shall you be restrained?"

Blaise shot Fudge and the Aurors his deadliest glare, visibly bracing his footing as though ready to move should he need to. "You should have all the facts before handing out arrest warrants, Ass Hole! You have no idea who you're messing with!"

""""""""""

_Soon to be continued…_


	55. Who is in Control?

**A/N: **Here it is guys! I kept the start of the teaser chapter so it'd refresh where the story was up to. Not sure how long the next chapter will take, but I hope you like this one, despite how long it took me to write it.

**

* * *

****Chapter Fifty Four: Who is in Control?**

**""""""""""**

_Crimson eyes stared into crimson, a maniacal sneer spreading over the reptilian features. He was immensely pleased that he'd bided his time long enough to gather enough strength to fully take over his constructs mental and physical faculties. Very soon, he would use his weapon to destroy his enemies … then watch gleefully as its own grief would tear it apart…_

""""""""""

The Great Hall was filled with the mutterings and open exclamations of it's curious occupants, watching avidly as the Minister of Magic marched purposefully toward the Head Table, his squad of Aurors and Aide behind him. The Professors were shocked by the sudden arrivals, but soon recovered and glared at the man with barely concealed resentment and irritation.

Professor Dumbledore stood regally and stared down at the assembly with the patience borne of one his age. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Cornelius?"

Fudge removed his bowlers hat and pompously placed it under one arm, motioning with the other to one of the Aurors. "I received some most disturbing news, not long ago, Albus," Fudge announced with an air of arrogance, taking a scroll of parchment from the Auror he'd signalled and flourishing it in front of him. "As you know, Albus, that during any murder investigation, any and all possible leads must be followed until exhausted. Mister Weasley here," Fudge gestured to a haughty Percy, "has done well to inform me that one of your students had corresponded with him, revealing that they had overheard another of your students confessing to the crime of murdering Draco Malfoy to another!"

The Hall erupted with noise and shouting, as students looked about fearfully, wondering who among them might be capable of murder. The Professors were also stunned by this announcement, but only a select few were privy to the truth of the matter.

Fudge was glaring up at Dumbledore triumphantly. "Also!" he continued loudly over the noise of the students, "In said correspondence, is the location of written evidence of the crime!"

Dumbledore spoke up at this point, looking fit to be tied. "Cornelius, perhaps we should continue this in my Office?"

"What for, Albus?" Fudge crowed, looking far too gleeful. "Ashamed are you? Well I don't care!" Fudge lifted the scroll before him and unrolled it, before reading loudly: "The Ministry of Magic hereby charges, for the crime of First Degree Murder: Apprentice Callen Emrys Snape!"

""""""""""

Lizzy looked on in absolute horror as her brother was charged with Malfoy's murder. Who had told? Who had known? A hand rested against her shoulder and Liz looked up into the troubled eyes of Blaise Zabini. She couldn't even speak and allowed his arm to rest across her shoulders as she leant into his side, seeking warmth where none was available. The strength and power of the feelings engulfing the hall was playing havoc with Lizzy's Empathy, but through it all she could feel Blaise's own fear, not only for her brother, but for himself. It was during the Minister's next bellowed announcement that she understood why he was afraid for himself.

"The Ministry of Magic also charges, as accomplice to First Degree Murder: Blaise Zabini!"

Gasps and screams were heard as those seated near them jumped and scurried away from them, horror seeping from them in waves making Liz feel ill. She felt only a brief tightening of his arm, before Blaise pushed her away and jumped from his seat, eyeballing the Minister and Aurors edgily, glaring at the wands trailed on him.

Fudge turned and sneered at him. "Mr Zabini, you are under arrest for being an accomplice to the murder of Draco Malfoy! Should you reach for your wand or display any aggressive behaviour, the Aurors will respond accordingly! Will you come for interrogation quietly, or shall you be restrained?"

Blaise shot Fudge and the Aurors his deadliest glare, visibly bracing his footing as though ready to move should he need to. "You should have all the facts before handing out arrest warrants, Ass Hole! You have no idea who you're messing with!"

"Mr Zabini, I recommend that you--"

"Quiet Dumbledore!" Fudge barked, displaying an uncharacteristically powerful persona for a moment. He glared at Blaise and motioned to the Aurors, "He's made his choice. Detain him!"

The students at and near the Slytherin table scattered as the Aurors aimed their wands at Blaise, each moving apart to strategic locations, almost surrounding the boy.

"Cornelius!" Dumbledore thundered over the sounds of panic the students were making, almost silencing the lot in seconds. "This is unnecessary!"

Fudge ignored him. Instead he focused his beady eyes on the slight-looking Slytherin who was glancing at the Aurors surrounding him attentively. "Where is Snape, boy?" he barked, eyes flashing.

Blaise smirked, "The Professor seems to be absent, Fudgie."

"_Blaise--!_" Lizzy hissed.

"Don't get smart with me, boy!" Fudge snapped, his eyes flicking to Liz for a brief moment. "Where is Apprentice Snape?"

Blaise glanced at Liz for an instant, not having missed Fudge's attention to her the second beforehand, before returning his gaze to the porky Minister. "What makes you think I know where he could be, Fudgie? Hogwarts is quite a big place…"

Fudge bristled at the sarcastic tone and shouted at the Auror nearest him, "Don't just stand there! Restrain him--"

"That won't work too well on me, Minister," Blaise interrupted, grinning humourlessly. "Especially because of who my father was … but you should know some of that story." Blaise laughed suddenly, looking around at the whole Hall who was listening to the discussion raptly. "Hell, who hasn't heard of the stories about how You-Know-Who performed tests on his Deatheaters?"

There were loud mutterings around the Hall and most of the older students confirmed the rumours had existed in the past to the younger ones, while Fudge was growing wary of where the boy was heading.

"Well guess what?" Blaise continued, balling his hands into fists at his side, noting the Aurors tensing in preparation for any retaliatory action. "Those rumours were true … and parents pass on some abilities to their children!"

Screaming filled the Great Hall at Hogwarts as Blaise bent his knees and sprang upwards, the spells the Aurors uttered in reaction leaping forth on a collision corse with the boy, only to see him explode with fire. Everyone ducked their heads as the searing flames leapt outward, completely obscuring any sign of Blaise, the Aurors spells seemingly passing through the flames with perfect aim … only to find no trace of the boy once the flames disappeared.

He was gone.

""""""""""

"Why would He be calling now?" Hermione breathed fearfully as she looked at Professor Snape rubbing where she knew the Dark Mark to be resting on his inner forearm. "Do you think it could have anything to do with what jut happened to Harry?"

Severus nodded jerkily, standing straighter as the Marks burn started to ebb. "I fear so, Miss Granger. From your description, the Dark Lord has somehow gained control over my son." Severus shook his head, "However I do not see how it is possible. The whole reason why the surviving Avatar's were hunted down was due to their free will, as the Dark Lord had only included a desire to please him in their overall design, rather than a compulsion to obey. I don't see how this could have happened…"

Hermione watched as Severus leant against a desk, rubbing his forehead in agitation, his mind obviously working through the many possible explanations that could relate to Harry's predicament. Her own mind was buzzing with possible scenario's, but before she could get very far, a wash of searing heat and flame burst forth from the corner of the room, making her duck and turn away with the suddenness of it.

"_Hey, don't shoot at me!_"

Hermione looked up; Professor Snape had his wand out and pointing at the source of the disturbance. Looking over, she saw Blaise Zabini with his hands outstretched in front of him as though they were an adequate shield, his face a mask of pure indignation.

"Care to explain what that was, Mr Zabini?" said Snape coolly, his wand not moving from the Slytherin boy.

Blaise huffed, "Later, Professor. I just thought you might want to know that the Minister and a few Aurors just arrived, and that Harry has just been charged with Malfoys murder, and I was pinned as an accomplice!"

That statement made Snape drop his arm and stare at his student with confused horror. "_What?_ How on earth did they come up with such a ridiculously trumped up charge! My son is not a murderer!"

There were a few moments of complete silence as the three companions reflected on the severity of the situation, when Blaise suddenly let out a heavy breath of air and took a hesitant step towards Snape.

"Professor," he said reservedly, appearing to both Hermione and Severus as the epitome of defeat. "The charges aren't completely false, I'm afraid."

Severus's breath hitch momentarily, "I beg your pardon?"

Blaise took another step toward his professor, hating what he now needed to tell him. "Let me explain…"

""""""""""

"What the hell did you do, Ron!" Ginny hissed, her voice dripping with venom as she glared at her older brother. "I know you did something! I overheard you talking to the Gossiping Gasbags this morning, and really, who else would write news like that to _Percy_!"

The remainder of the Hogsmeade trip had been cancelled and the students sent back to their Common Rooms, as the Minister had ordered a school wide search for, not only the missing Callen Snape, but also the now fugitive Blaise Zabini. Not only that, but Fudge had also ordered that the remaining Snape's be detained for questioning, regarding the possible location of their wayward family member. As such, it was a very distressed Elizabeth that had been removed from the Great Hall before the order to vacate had been submitted. If the look on Professor Potter's face was anything to go by, Ginny almost feared the reaction Professor Snape would have once he learned of it, let alone what Callen would do. So as soon as both her and Ron had exited the Great Hall, she had dragged him over to the darkest corner and demanded answers.

Ron screwed up his face and jerked his arm from her grip, pointing his finger at her in fury, "What's it to you, Ginny? I just helped the proper authorities track down a killer in our own school. You should be _thanking me_!"

"Thank you?" Ginny hissed, looking around fleetingly to be sure no one could hear them. "Why would I _thank_ you for doing such a thing? Callen is _not_ a murderer, so _why_ did you say he was!"

Ron stood straighter and shot his sister a mocking sneer, "That's for me to know. Whether you believe me or not, I know the truth. That monster is going to get his just desserts. So is that freak, Zabini."

Ginny forced down her growing anger as she watched her brother turn and walk away, only to feel confusion when an Auror spotted him and escorted the visibly indigent redhead away. Scoffing inwardly, Ginny turned her eyes to the leaving crowd, searching for the familiar bushy hair of her best friend, only to realized Hermione was nowhere in sight. Frowning, Ginny strode forward, her eyes flicking everywhere hoping to spot her, however when no result came forward, she moved her search to the different girls dorms once she reached the Common Room. Half running up the stairs, Ginny dutifully searched each dorm until she'd reached the Seventh Years, and still found no sign of the bookish Gryffindor.

Hermione was missing.

""""""""""

_Everything was blurred and warped … Vision swimming as though he were drugged … He could see people standing around him … Black hooded cloaks hung from their frames…_

_A voice was speaking to him … the words sounded slurred, he couldn't understand them, yet his mouth moved and he spoke anyway, answering an unheard question … Laughter sounded from all around…_

_A direct Order from the Voice was perfectly understood … "Release all current sealing pacts you currently have held over others, Avatar." His own Magic reacted before he even possessed the order … all Secrecy spells he'd had in effect were now null and void._

_The Voice spoke again, "Now … show my loyal followers your _truest _form! Unveil your Power, now that I have regained the strength to invoke my control over it! Avatar … Revert!"_

_Again, the direct Order was heard and responded to without thought, and he felt his body shift fluidly, his posture changing to accommodate the new appendages on his back and tailbone, the position of his feet. He dropped all restraints on his powers, feeling it mass and swirl around him like a breath of fresh air. He felt invincible … and somewhere in his mind he knew he shouldn't…_

_Fear and Awe was smelt in the air, and a glee so powerful it was almost intoxicating. The voice was muffled again and a dull cheer was heard from the surroundings. Anticipation seeped into him from the air, when the Voice gave another Order…_

"_Avatar … Defend myself and followers from all who oppose us … we are to lay siege to the Ministry of Magic!"_

_Something in him whispered of revolt to the order … yet he felt his mouth move and voice speak of its own accord._

"_As you wish, My Lord…"_

""""""""""


	56. How it Began

** A/N: **Wow, I finally have something up to post!! A thousand apologies for the extraordinarily long wait, but I'd hit the biggest roadblock ever. It wasn't until last night that I'd found some very sudden insperation and typed up this new chapter. I know. It's really short. But, I thought I'd give you this and hope the river hasn't run dry already. That, and it has some nice information in it :)

I hope you like it!!

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Five: How it Began**

* * *

Time seemed like an eternity, as Severus tried to assimilate what the Zabini boy had just given light to. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he drew in a deep breath. "Draco Malfoy kept a diary, you said," Severus whispered. "And in it, he wrote everything he'd discovered about my son, including what and who he really is. On top of that, he cast an extremely complex Dark Arts charm on it, that would record his last few seconds of thought at the moment of his death. I have all that correct, yes?"

Blaise nodded, "Yes sir."

"Now, upon Draco's passing, the diary was spelled to return to you, yes? Right. Now, within those pages, it reveals that my son arrived on the scene where my daughter received her injuries, went mad, and promptly Stupefied Draco to death after a small exchange of heated words revolving around Callen's involvement in Lucius Malfoy's demise." Severus took a deep, steadying breath. "I have all that correct then, Mr Zabini?"

Again, Blaise nodded jerkily.

Hermione took this moment to speak up, "However, someone also found all this out and Owled it to the Ministry. And I think I might know who it was." She sighed heavily as they both turned to look at her. "Ron has been acting very smug since he got back from his suspension. I think he may have told the Ministry something about Harry, maybe even found out about all this even. I know I wouldn't put it past him to get Harry arrested on the most far-fetched accusation, but it'd be even worse if what he'd told them was true."

No one said anything for a moment, but then Blaise looked at Hermione strangely, cocking his head slightly. "Where exactly is Potter, Granger? I left you with him not that long ago." Severus cursed rather colourfully and Hermione brought a hand to her face in despair. "Whoa, whoa! What's wrong? What happened?"

Severus stared at the wall, glaring at it as though it had done him a personal wrong. "He has been pos--"

"Severus!!!"

Jessica Potter burst through the chambers door, her eyes red and her appearance dishevelled. "Severus! They've taken her! They took her away, and they're looking for you too!"

Severus took the distraught woman in his arms and held her tightly as she clung to him, his mind already attempting to work out just who his lover was talking about. "Shh Jess, it's all right, calm down … deep breaths … that's it … Now what is the matter?"

Jessica pushed herself out of Sev's arms and practically stalked around the room. "Fudge!" she snarled, "He ordered the Auror's to take Lizzy to the Ministry for questioning! He's after your hide as well." She stopped suddenly as she caught sight of Blaise before pointing a finger at him harshly. "And this one's been charged with Accomplice to Murder, right alongside Callen, who's apparently running for the killer of the year award!"

Severus was holding out his hands placatedly. "Yes, Jess, Mr Zabini has already informed us of that particular situation. About Elizabeth, however, how long ago did they take her, and are any Auror's searching the castle for us?"

"No, Severus," Dumbledore answered from the door, "No one is searching for you here. As for Miss Snape, she was taken not more than twenty minutes ago." The Headmaster walked into the room calmly, looking tired and worn, glancing at the people before him shrewdly. His eyes rested on Blaise. "That was quite the performance, Mr Zabini. It certainly reminded those that remember of its existence, why that particular experimental program was not brought to the testing phase. Sadly though, it managed to fall into Lord Voldemorts hands and he started human testing, before completing the procedures on himself. As I recall, your father was one of the Death Eaters in that small group, as was Severus." Dumbledore ignored the wide eyed looked on the people around him as he sat in Severus's favourite chair. "And so, when he discovered the inability for a full grown human to handle the extra power within them, he thought to change the building blocks of life so the body grew up accustomed to such power. Enter Harry Potter, as he is today."

"Are you saying, Albus," Severus whispered, his voice raspy, "that Voldemort wasn't the original inventor of these procedures? Our own Ministry was?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Indeed, Severus. Those in charge of the Law Enforcement and Department of Mysteries teamed up to pool ideas on how to make the Auror's more powerful and resilient. Better to battle criminals and Dark Wizards. And they succeeded. However, before approval for human testing went through the proper channels, questions of morality started popping up, and if we really should give such a large and organised amount of people such an advantage over the normal masses. After all, how would we contain and control those with abilities so much more diverse than the population were accustomed to?"

"Albus, why are you telling us this?" Severus cut in, a feeling he didn't like rising in his chest.

Dumbledore continued as though he hadn't spoken. "It was then decided that all those who had the procedure performed on them were to have a failsafe imbedded in their very essence. Naturally the failsafe was never used, even though it was created, because the Bill wasn't passed and the documentation and all notes regarding the procedure were filed away, never to see the light of day again. Or, so we thought."

The silence in the room was deafening, as no one could find the ability to speak. Severus started pacing, trying to work off his frustration.

Hermione cleared her throat quietly before nervously voicing a question. "Ahh, Sir? What exactly was this failsafe?"

Dumbledore didn't reply for a few moments, gazing out the window, then he turned back to them gravely. "It came in two forms actually," he replied. "Kind of like double insurance. The first method of control was by binding the subject that had gone through the procedure, with another. Originally the one who was bound to was to be a normal Witch or Wizard. It was a blood bond, so to speak, only a little more complex. It's hard to explain the technicalities, but essentially, the normal person would, when they had sufficient power available to them, have the ability to remove the subject's free will. Very much like the Imperius curse in the way it effected the mind, but unshakeable due to the binding between them…"

"And, if that didn't work? Though I fail to see how it couldn't…" Jessica muttered.

Dumbledore smiled sadly and took a deep breath. "If the Binder were to die, the shock to the Subject would have made them fall unconscious for a long enough period of time to inject them with a serum. You must understand that this was a last resort, not that we ever thought it would come to be a reality. The serum was a potent mixture that would separate the Subject from their Life Core. As potently Magical creatures, the subject could still live for a time on their own Magical Core, however, if the antidote wasn't administered by the time their magic ran out, their very cells would be unable to hold themselves together, and they would turn to ash. When this procedure still looked like it would go ahead, all this was prepared for. There are cells in Azkaban Prison set aside specifically for these people, that ward off all accessibility to magic within the cell walls. This was where the antidote would have been administered, rejoining the Life Core with the Subject, allowing them to live, while providing them with no link to access their more formidable abilities. But none of this had been used, as the motion was never passed by the government…"

"You want us to give that serum to Harry, don't you Headmaster…" Hermione whispered, horrified. It was not a question.

"I do not know how the serum would effect Harry," Dumbledore answered gravely. "Voldemort has changed the procedure, refined it even. It was designed for someone who'd gone through the procedure in adulthood, not during conception. Nor do I know how the bond between both Harry and Voldemort will behave. Most of what would happen is theoretical in nature and never was proven in reality…"

Severus stared a the Headmaster blankly, not even reacting when Jessica buried her head by his neck. "So, not only are you suggesting that we forcibly subdue my son, you are also saying you don't even know if it will work."

Dumbledore nodded.

"It won't matter though, will it?" Blaise spoke up suddenly. "Once everyone knows what he is, or what _any_ of us that have these powers are, their going to want him, or us even, either locked up or put down. It was all right while only the top knots in the government knew about it … but once the general population find out that Voldemort has an Avatar running around, their gonna want it gone. It won't matter that it used to be Harry bloody Potter…"

Dumbledore stood slowly and turned to Severus, who was staring back at him, tone faced. "I shall fire-call a contact of mine in the Department of Mysteries, Severus. We require that serum, only for a last resort you understand. Voldemort has finally fully activated the mind bond between them, and he has an almost unstoppable force at his command. Go to the Ministry of Magic, turn yourself over for questioning. My connections will make sure you aren't arrested or held, and the serum will make its own way to you." He placed a gentle hand on Severus's shoulder, ignoring the muscles twitching in he cheek and neck. "I do not wish for it to come to this either Severus, but it is something we must take into consideration. I am very sorry."

And with that, the venerable old Headmaster strolled slowly out of the room.

"Exposure and ostracism, exposure and imprisonment, death, or Voldemort's mindless living doll." Everyone glared balefully at Blaise. He shrugged, "I was just saying…" he muttered under his breath. "Shitty choices if you ask me."

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	57. Burn, Burn, Burn

Hey Everyone!! Here's another updtae for you ... a bit long in getting here again, I'll admit. Never fear though, we are nearing the end of this story. No clue on how long it will take me to get it all done, but there it is. A few more chapters should do it. Enjoy!!

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**Chapter Fifty Six: Burn, Burn, Burn…**

The gentle trickling of water could be heard over the general hustle and bustle of the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic, pouring in graceful arches as they spouted from strategic locations on a gaudy looking, newly repaired golden statue. Yet no one in the party walking by noticed its simple tranquillity. A flustered Minister and a team of Aurors escorted two smaller persons between them. One, a red-headed boy who was loudly protesting his being there, and the second, a small black-haired girl who looked on the verge of terror.

Cornelius Fudge was barking orders to another redhead beside him, only this one was much taller than the last. "Weatherby, I want a manhunt organised for both of our top suspects in the Malfoy boys murder case, plus a notice sent to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with regards to the capture and questioning of known Death Eater, Severus Snape." The small party turned the corner and headed toward the lifts at the end of the corridor. "No surprise that the son turned out the way he did, really. What with a father like that as an example."

"You shut up about my dad!" Lizzy snapped out, mostly before she could think about her words. "He's no Death Eater, you fat ponce!"

Fudge merely glared down at her for a moment as though she were a bug, while a burley Auror next to her clamped a hand on her shoulder. "Watch your tongue there, spitfire. Wouldn't want to lose it before we get an answers out of you, would we?" Liz jerked her shoulder but knew she wouldn't dislodge the hand holding her so easily. Giving up, she obediently walked where directed.

"Oi! I'm the one that told you lot about that Snape freak in the first place!" Ron spat out angrily, glaring at the back of his brothers head. "Tell 'em Percy! I sent you that letter, so why the hell am I here?"

Liz felt a hot flash pass over her before it evaporated just as quickly. She snarled at Ron and made to leap at him, only to be held back by the Auror beside her once again. "You utter prat!" she screamed at him, her arms and legs flailing as the Auror proceeded to lift her bodily from the floor. "How could you do that to him?! You bloody jerk!!"

Ron sneered at her, "Well I had to get him taken out somehow didn't I? He just presented me with the perfect excuse, seeing how that I couldn't actually tell anyone that Snape was really Harry Potter now, could I? Not with that bloody charm he cast on me!"

Liz froze at Ron's words, as did the rest of the group, though for very different reasons. Fudge looked gobsmacked as he stared at Ron, as did the other Aurors. _How the hell did he say that out loud? What happened to the charm?_ With growing horror, Liz could see by the expression on his face that Ron had come to the same conclusion.

"The charms gone!" he practically crowed, pumping a fist in the air. He instantly turned to the Minister and Liz began her struggle to get free anew, praying with all her might that Ron wouldn't continue saying what she though he was going to.

"Minister, I can now tell you something that I wasn't able to earlier due to a secrecy charm placed on me." He paused and took a breath. "Harry Potter isn't dead like you all think he is. He faked his death and is really Snape's son, Callen."

"Ron, shut up!" Liz screamed, feeling her eyes burn at all the wasted effort her brother had put into his charade. He didn't deserve any of this crap and yet it was drawn to him like a magnet. "Don't you dare say any more!"

Ron only seemed to preen more as he continued talking to the Minister. "Harry really did kill Malfoy! He's been playing us all for fools! He's evil, just like his father, and that's not all! He's an Av--"

_**BOOM!!!**_

A deafening sound echoed around the Atrium as alarms started blearing and people started screaming. Fudge and his entourage quickly ushered Liz and Ron toward the lifts as dust and smoke billowed down from the Atrium. Liz felt her heart leap to her throat as she felt the utterly overwhelming presence of her brother appear. It was wild and unleashed, pouring out of him in crushing waves to any who could sense it. But it wasn't his magic that made her choke. It was the evil in it.

Liz clamped her hands over her ears as though it would help block out Callen's tainted essence, but it did her little good. She fell to her knees as she was bodily shoved into the lift, panicking people having sprinted away from her brother and any others with him and headed towards the lifts also. More and more people crammed into the lift and she was knocked to the floor. She let out a yelp as someone stood on her hand and curled up, trying to avoid any of the other feet trampling around her. She heard someone close the grating and the lift shuddered as it started to descend. A foot trod on her hair, just missing her head. She screamed at it ripped from her scalp and tried to scramble out of the way.

"Move!" a deep voice bellowed as the few people standing near on top of her were forcibly pushed aside and a strong arm wrapped itself around her middle, lifting her to her feet. A large hand cradled the side of her head, checking for any other damage. "You all right there, spitfire?" Liz could only nod shakily and let him pull her closer to him. "Stick close now. It'll be all right…"

Liz didn't answer, knowing that it would be pointless. After all, she knew precisely who and what was above all their heads, and the power he wielded. There wasn't a whole lot to hope for at the moment, except that her brother wouldn't blame himself when it was all over.

So long as he was still alive…

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"I just don't understand, Professor!" Hermione grated wearily. "Why have a contingency plan in place for when an Enhanced Wizard goes bad, but not account for the same possibility in the Controller, who would then use the wizard he's bonded to against his will? It's basically the problem we have at the moment with Cal and Voldemort. However, the only way to get him unconscious is if Voldemort is killed, but if he was killed, the Serum isn't needed as the forced control would be gone. Seeing how Callen is probably the only one capable of killing Voldemort anyway, that kind of has us in a little bit of a jam…"

Hermione exhaled heavily as she gracelessly flopped into one of the softer chairs in the Snape quarters, raising her hands to her temples and applying some pressure where an ache had begun. Blaise and Severus both had sat there also, trying to think of anything that may help Cal out of his current enslavement. So deep in thought they were, that it took a few moments for Hermione's words to sink in.

Severus turned to look at her, almost blankly, before his eyes lit up like a mini sun and a small grin fought to reveal itself. "Hermione, you're a genius," he said, quickly standing from his own chair. He'd thought of a small loophole in the Bond between his son and former Master, and promptly started relaying his theory to the other occupants of his Chambers.

He was going to help his son out in some way or another, even if it was the last thing he'd ever do…

""""""""""

They arrived in a swirl of black smoke, enveloping the entrance of the Ministry Atrium while all the workers stopped to stare at the phenomenon. The smoke was dissipating slowly, but as the onlookers caught view of movement within, a dome of blue-white energy exploded outward, sending people flying and shaking dust from above. People screamed and crouched down, shielding their heads with their arms against any falling debris. This reaction caused many to fall dead from the bolts of green emanating from the clearing smoke, not seeing the danger bearing down on them. Chaos erupted at the sight of the dead, but it was brought to new heights as the black cloud vanished, and a vision of terror was left behind.

Death Eaters.

However, that was not the main reason for the peoples hysteria. For not only did the demons of the past stand before them, but so did a visual monstrosity of the like none had ever laid eyes on before.

A grotesque figure stood at the fore of the group of Death Eaters. A mottled, sickly green aura surrounded its deformed body. Bone and pulsating flesh showed from beneath bare patches on dead and limp feathery wings. Horns curled around an animalistic head, beside long and crooked ears. Its legs were bent horribly and its claws sank easily into the polished floor. Tattered and torn robes hung from its rippled and bulging arms and torso, a forked tail lashing back and forth.

If anyone had taken the time to look closely enough, they would have seen a green Hogwarts house emblem among the tatters.

The monster opened its teeth filled maw and let out an ear-splitting roar. All present, bar the Death Eaters, covered their ears in agony, their own screaming mingled with the sound. On some, blood seeped from between their fingers as their ears burst from the strain.

As the Death Eaters shot the deathly green curse at the remaining, incapacitated civilians, another figure stepped from behind the monster. Lord Voldemort sneered and looked around the destroyed area, his red eyes smouldering in much the same way as the creature beside him. "How pitiful," he hissed. "Not one decent duelist among them." Voldemort glanced about his followers quickly and singled out three of them. "Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair. You will stand guard here!" The three quickly bowed and complied, separating from the rest of the group. "Kill anyone who comes to this room, understand?"

The three bowed again, "Yes, My Lord."

Voldemort sneered and with a wave of his wand, conjured an ethereal looking rope that circled the neck of the beast he stood by. "Come, Avatar … our journey continues…"

The creature trudged along obediently, letting the pull of the rope determine its direction. There was a high pitched cackle before a feminine voice spoke out into the silence.

"Ohhh … Wee little Potter, led by the neck! Just like the dog he is!"

Voldemort glanced over his shoulder momentarily. "That will do, Bellatrix. No need to antagonise the beast. After all, even the best trained dog will bite if pushed too far, don't you agree?"

"Of course, Master," Bellatrix simpered, bowing her head as they walked, "but, surely you have him under your complete control and needn't worry about such a slight detail? My Lord, it's not as though little Potty has a mind left to think with…"

Voldemort let escape a dark, foreboding chuckle. "Ahh, Bella, Bella … This is one pet I'll not take any chances with. Nor will you." It was not a suggestion. A brave few of the surrounding Death Eaters sniggered at Bellatrix's rebuk, but quickly grew silent at the Dark Lord swept a disapproving gaze over them. The group came to the grating covering the entrance to the lifts, only to find that all were missing. Casting his eyes upward, Voldemort smirked as the hands above the doors all moved steadily down in floors.

"Down, down, down we go, deep into the rabbits hole…" Ignoring the strange glances some of his followers were giving him, Voldemort turned to gaze up into the glowing eyes that matched his own. "Avatar, take us down one level at a time. Do not attack. Defend myself and my Death Eaters only."

The glowing red eyes flickered for a moment as the words registered, and a low snarl was heard from deep in its chest.

"Yes, My Lord."

""""""""""


End file.
